Massacre Of The Innocents
by The Last Letter
Summary: It was a seemingly normal day - until Bay, Daphne, Emmett, Kathryn, and Toby are taken hostage in the Kennish home. They struggle to live through the trauma of the day, and, when it's all over, no one is prepared to pick up the pieces.
1. Chapter 1

**Signing is in bold. This is set before 2X16 so Bay and Ty have **_**not**_** slept together yet.**

"Can I get you anything to eat?" Kathryn asked, signing along with her words so she could be sure that Daphne and Emmett were following her. "I have some chocolate almond cookies that just come out of the oven."

"That sounds great!" Daphne exclaimed. "I don't think I've tried chocolate and almond before."

"It's really good," Kathryn assured them. "Do you want some too, Emmett?"

**Yes, please.** Emmett grinned at her.** I know how good your cooking is; how could I refuse?**

"You're sweet," Kathryn gushed. "Juice or milk?"

"Juice," Daphne said while Emmett made the same sign.

Kathryn gave them a smile before flouncing from the living room into the kitchen to see her son heading by. "Toby," she called.

"Not now, Mom. I need to meet Nikki in ten. Is Bay in her room?"

"Should be!" Kathryn bellowed back a reply, hearing him thunder up the stairs.

Toby ducked into his room long enough to grab his wallet before heading into Bay's room.

"Knock much?" She sneered as soon as the door opened.

"It's not like you're naked," Toby shot back.

"Gross," Bay rolled her eyes, dropping her book onto the bed beside her. "You're my brother."

"I didn't say I wanted to see you naked," Toby replied, equally as disgusted.

"Good … Now, what's up?"

"Nikki wanted me to ask if you if you could do a wedding portrait. She says she wants a big painting of us to hang up on the wall – something based off of our favourite picture taken at the wedding." Toby offered her a hopeful expression. "So, you in? It would make both of us really happy."

"Stop with the puppy eyes," Bay laughed, holding up a hand to block her view of Toby. "I'll do it."

"You're the greatest, Bay!" Toby called, pointing a hand back to her.

"You know it!" Bay shouted in return. She watched him disappear down the hallway, before growling her realization. "You forget to shut my door, nitwit."

She shook her head but didn't bother to get up. The noises Kathryn made in the kitchen weren't that distracting, and it's not like Daphne and Emmett were going to get into a shouting match or anything like that. With a sigh, she returned back to her book, half thinking about going down to get a cookie, but not wanting to run into Emmett while doing it. Oh, the struggles of being Bay Kennish.

Toby paused when he heard Bay call him a nitwit, but when her anger didn't seem to give chase, he continued to fly down the stairs. He slid into the living room, as much to see Kathryn and Daphne as to have a quick word with Emmett.

"What's up?" Toby greeted. He was distracted a beat after. "Oh, cookies."

He snatched a healthy helping from the plate Kathryn had just sat down on the coffee table. He was quick to cram the cookies into his mouth in order to free his hands so he could turn to Emmett and talk to him.

**Are you free weekend after next?**

** I should be,**Emmett replied. **Why?**

** Nikki might have found a gig for Awesome Sauce.**

** I'll keep the dates free.**

Toby turned to say something to Kathryn when he heard the front door open. "Isn't Dad supposed to be gone all day?" he questioned.

"Yes … and Regina and Adrianna are both working; no surprise visits from them." Kathryn's hands flew to her hips. "Bay better not be sneaking out."

"I'll check," Toby volunteered. "I've got to head out anyway – I'm almost late for meeting Nikki."

He slipped through the doorway connecting the living room to the kitchen.

**What happened?** Emmett asked, only catching Kathryn's annoyed expression. Daphne repeated the words aloud, as Kathryn hadn't been facing Emmett, and she didn't know either.

"I heard the front door open –" Kathryn turned around, giving her explanation, but Daphne's attention was lost.

She saw Toby walking backward toward them, hands raised. What was simple confusion turned to heart-racing panic as she saw another person behind Toby, a mask over their face, something gripped in its hands. Daphne knew exactly what it was, even without seeing it clearly. There was an unknown figure in her house, holding a gun, which was pointed at Toby.

"Toby," she blurted her brother's name in fear.

The boy looked over his shoulder as Daphne said his name. He got a full view of his mother's face when she turned around and fully realized what was going on. He watched her usually youthful face transform into an aged one. He felt his heart rip as she screamed in terror.

(-.-)

Bay was halfway down the stairs, determined not to let Emmett's presence interrupt her quest for food, when she heard Kathryn scream. Initially, she thought Kathryn had encountered a large insect or a hairy rodent, but soon after, Bay realized that she was wrong. That scream was too long and too frightened to be caused by a wayward creature.

Bay continued her journey downward very slowly, realizing that something very wrong was going on in her house.

She heard Kathryn's voice come rising up from the living room.

"Who are you? Why are you in my house? And for the love of everything, could you get that gun off of my son?"

Bay came to a halt just outside of the living room entryway, knowing that she'd walked too far. Trying not to make a sound, she tried to move away, simultaneously digging out her cell phone and dialing as she went. She was so intent on making sure that she hit the right numbers that she underestimated how far she was from the wall. She hit it with her shoulder, resulting in a dull thud. Bay held her breath, praying that no one heard that.

"Is there anyone else here" Came a roar – definitely a male voice.

_Oh shit,_ Bay thought, knowing that she should start running but found herself unable to move, ears straining to hear the next words.

No one seemed inclined to give an answer, but the unfamiliar voice demanded to know, "What's he doing with his hands?"

Emmett, Bay realized, was confirming she was there through sign language – something the unknown male was obviously ignorant of.

"Fine," the unfamiliar man grumbled. "I'll go investigate. If any of you have moved when I get back, people _will_ get shot."

Bay was torn between not wanting anyone to move and knowing that someone had to call for help because there were heavy footsteps coming in her direction. Her instincts finally kicked in knowing that a gun was coming toward her. She threw herself forward while pressing call on her phone. She raced toward the front door, feeling the presence getting closer and closer.

"Hello, 911," a light voice said from her phone.

"There's someone in my house!" Bay screamed, feeling the 'someone's' breath against her neck.

There was a suspended moment where Bay could feel the large, hot body millimeters away from her own. Her heartbeat roared loudly in her ears and she yelped another word into her phone, "Help!" before his body dropped down onto hers, sending Bay crashing painfully into the floor.

She didn't have time to register the pain in her ribs and chin, the lack of air in her body or the barking voice coming from her phone. The man had knocked the phone away from Bay's stretching hands, and dragged her to her feet – she too breathless to resist his seething touch. She could feel the gun poking at her side as she was turned around to face the mask.

"Another bitch, huh?" He snarled, drawing back his arm and punching her in the face. "Let's go see if any of your family needs to be shot."

Bay kept her head down as she was forced back to where the others had been left. She began to cry, hot tears spilling onto her already aching cheekbone. Feeling the pain, she began to get angry. Who was this man, why was he in her house, and what the hell did he want?

Bay shoved him, trying to drive her elbow into his ribs. She waited for him to release her in surprise. Instead, his grip on her bicep tightened to the point where she cried out from the intensity of his hold – it was too much. When they rounded the corner into the living room, Bay was glad to have him let go of her, even if he did make sure to throw her roughly against the floor.

"Keep your hands off her!" Bay saw Toby jump up and the gun flashed with sudden movement.

"Ah, ah," the man chastised, carelessly waving the weapon. "Sit back down. I'm glad to see you were all smart enough to stay put, though."

Kathryn cringed as she drew a trembling Bay into her arms. The first thing Toby, Daphne, and Emmett had done when the man disappeared to hunt Bay was jump to their feet, intent on escape. Kathryn, however, couldn't let them do that; wouldn't even let Toby bring out his cell phone to call 911. If the man had come back and found something amiss, Bay would be his closest target. Kathryn was not about to let her daughter die. She knew that in protect Bay by not letting anyone run, she might also be dooming the other kids, but she was praying that it wouldn't come to that; she had to have confidence that everything was going to work out.

"What do you want?" Daphne plucked up the courage to ask. She tried to keep her eyes trained on the man's lips but it was hard; not only was he wearing a ski mask but he was also pacing.

In that moment, Daphne hated being Deaf with a burning passion. All she could gather was that this was a dangerous situation. If the man gave an order, she'd have no way of knowing it – neither would Emmett. Every person in that room was in danger but she and Emmett were more so (if they didn't listen because they couldn't hear, and that man decided to shoot, what could anyone do?). it was a terrifying thought – one she had been confronted with that night in the food truck, but one that seemed so much more real in this moment.

The man gestured to Kathryn, who had Bay still in her arms. "Am I right to assume you are the woman of the house?"

Kathryn nodded. "I am."

"Then let's make this simple. I want jewelry and I want cash. You deliver those things to me and I'll walk away – no one has to get hurt."

"My jewelry is in my bedroom upstairs," Kathryn answered promptly. She didn't care about losing jewelry or anything else, so long as the man got away from the children.

"First things first, empty your pockets – cell phones on the floor."

Toby made another defiant move but Kathryn caught him in a glare, one that clearly said 'play along'. Toby huffed but put his phone on the floor with everyone else's.

"Good," the man purred. "Now, stand up."

Emmett watched everyone else rise before scrambling to his own feet. He hated being a beat behind, especially knowing how quickly that gun could go off. He had seen Toby's angry movements and almost wished the other boy would go in for the attack; Emmett would gladly help. He didn't fully understand why the man was here (he doubted even the people who could hear the man fully understand what the man was doing in the Kennish home). What he did know was that he cared about every person in the room – Toby, his friend and band mate; Daphne, his best friend; Bay, the woman he was in love with; and Kathryn, the mother of Bay and Daphne, and the woman who hadn't failed to accept him – and he knew that he had a fierce protective streak. He wasn't going to let anything happen to anyone.

"Upstairs," the man ordered. "And if anyone tries to break away – " he snatched a passing Bay, bringing her taunt against his body, " – she's going to get it."

Emmett, seeing Bay _that_ close to such an awful man, felt his blood boil. He lurched toward the man, but felt Toby's hand clamp onto his shoulder. Emmett looked at the blonde, who shook his head. Emmett followed Toby to lead him up the stairs, following Kathryn who was holding Daphne's hand. He was glad that Daphne was out of the man's reach (though not out of gun range) while being worried about Bay, bringing up the rear with the man.

**What's happening?** He signed to Toby.

**Guy wants cash. Mom's taking him upstairs.**

** Is he going to let us go?**

** I hope so.**

Kathryn opened the door to her and John's bedroom. She led the little group inside. The man followed last, holding a freaked out Bay.

Before he released her and addressed the group as a whole, he whispered in Bay's ear, "I like you. I can tell you're a spitfire."

Bay wanted to slap him across the face and scream 'fuck you' as loudly as she possibly could. She forced herself to take a breath and channeled Daphne's usual easy-going, non-confrontational nature. If the man liked spitfires, she would be the anti-spitfire. The man let go and Bay quickly stumbled away from him and gripped the first safe spot she saw – Toby.

"Into the closet," the man ordered.

"Closet?" Daphne repeated. "Why?"

"Because I said so," the man growled, raising his gun.

"Let's go," Kathryn said quickly. She tugged Daphne along behind her and they all filed into Kathryn's closet – large enough that they could all sit inside, but not so large that there was anything such as personal space.

Kathryn winced as she heard a scraping sound – fearing that they'd just been barricaded in and knowing that was exactly the case.

"Well," she said, struggling to stay strong and confident for the kids, knowing they were probably more afraid than she was, "Is everyone okay?"

"I'm fine," Toby answered immediately. "Bay, how does your eye feel?"

Bay gingerly lifted her fingers, brushing the bruise. "I'll be all right. What happened? How did he get in?"

"I don't know," Daphne shrugged. "Toby left the room and then came back in with a gun pointed at him."

**What happened?** Emmett asked.

"Mom thought Bay was sneaking out –"

"Thanks for the trust, Mom."

"_Anyway_, I walked out to check and see if she was right, and that guy was just standing inside the door. He saw me and pulled out his gun. He didn't even ask if there was anyone else in the house because we could hear Mom talking. He just told me to walk backward to the rest of my family, which I did. I was hoping Bay would call 911 and not get caught, but obviously that's not what happened," Toby finished.

"Maybe it's for the best that a call wasn't made," Kathryn murmured. "We're barricaded in a closet –"

Toby, who was sitting next to the door, tried opening it, but it stayed shut.

Kathryn continued, "And we don't want to become hostages. Hopefully, we'll get robbed and then released."

**We're in a closet. I think we're already hostages,** Emmett pointed out.

"Guys," Bay slowly confessed, using her signing as a way to hide her hesitation, "I _did_ get a call to 911."

"Well, the police is never a bad thing," Daphne was quick to say.

Kathryn nodded, though she was now worried about what the police could mean. As of right now – excusing the rampant fear and Bay's slight injury – everyone was fine. She didn't want the man to be put under any pressure that could cause him to act irrationally. She just wanted everyone to get out of the situation safely.

She was about to echo the assurances Daphne had offered when she heard a faint wail. She froze and saw Bay and Toby do the same. Kathryn hoped the sirens would pass; that Bay's call had been too brief. But the sirens didn't pass. They were at the house.

"Fuck!" The man roared, followed by a loud thump and more choice words.

"What's happening?" Daphne cried, feeling the intensity level in the closet rise.

"The police are here –we can here the sirens," Toby explained. "The guy isn't happy."

"And we're definitely trapped," Bay groaned.

"Shh," Toby hissed. "He's yelling at the cops." He pressed his ear against the door, desperately trying to hear her better.

"What's he saying?" Bay demanded.

"Get out of here. I'll kill them if an officer steps foot in this house."

Bay translated the words into ASL. Toby was at an awkward angle for Daphne and Emmett to understand him.

"The police are trying to talk him out; saying that if he comes out now, it's less of a punishment than if he takes hostages." The group watched as Toby paled. He swallowed hard before whispering, "He just said that if the cops don't leave, then we'll die hostages."

**I don't own anything recognizable. Updates will come every Monday. Thanks to my beta: NuGirl.**

**The title is from the painting **_**Massacre Of The Innocents **_**by Peter Paul Rubens, circa 1611-1612.**

**~TLL~**


	2. Chapter 2

Nikki huffed, checking her watch for the umpteenth time. When Toby rushed in to meet her at the last second, looking adorably disheveled and apologetic, she found it endearing. When Toby was half an hour late, had already left the car wash, and wasn't answering his phone, she found it annoying. She decided that she'd had enough of waiting around for him and it was time to start tracking her down.

She knew he had planned on stopping at his house before coming to meet her, so she figured that it was a good place to start.

Nikki was glad that the drive was short so that she didn't have time to dwell on her anger and feelings of being abandoned. If there was one thing she was struggling with, it was keeping a cool head, especially when it came to issues with the people she loved. She was rehearsing a well-worded speech to deliver to Toby when she found him as she pulled into the Kennish driveway, only to be greeted with the sight of a police car and two severely stern police officers.

Nikki felt her heart plummet. Here she was, grouching over Toby not answering her, but what if he _couldn't_ answer her? She began to pray that he wasn't hurt and that his family wasn't hurt. When his family was in pain, Toby pained right along with them. He had been inconsolable the night John had his heart attack. And, after all they had been through recently, the Kennish family didn't deserve another twist of fate right now.

One of the officers came and knocked on her window. Nikki hesitantly rolled it down. She didn't know if she was prepared to hear what he was about to tell her. Still, she put on a brave face and smiled at him.

"Good morning, miss?"

"Nikki," she supplied in a breathy voice. "My name is Nikki."

"I'm Officer Paul Anders," he said with a nod. "Do you live here?"

Nikki shook her head. "No, my fiancé does; Toby Kennish." She took a deep breath and made herself ask, "What's happening here?"

"We have a hostage situation," the officer revealed.

She let out a squeak of alarm before clamping a hand over her mouth and silencing herself.

"Miss, I know it's hard to concentrate right now, but I need you to. Was Toby here all day?"

"No, he went into work around 8:30 this morning, I think it was. He left early though because we were supposed to go sample wedding cakes. He should have left the car wash maybe, forty or so minutes ago. He was stopping at home so he could grab his wallet and talk to Bay for me."

"Bay is?" Officer Anders prompted.

"One of his little sisters," Nikki replied. "His other sister was there too, Daphne, and her friend, Emmett. Toby was supposed to talk to him about a gig in a couple of weeks."

"Uh-huh," the officer made a note. "Was there anyone else in the house that you know of?"

"Just his mom, I think, Kathryn."

"I see. Do you have a number for the owner of this house?"

"John? Yes," Nikki nodded and fumbled for her cell phone, opening her contact information.

She recited John's number to Officer Anders, who repeated the number back to her for confirmation.

"That's right," she breathed.

"Thank you. Please stay on the premises."

Nikki agreed and stared at the house were Toby was being held captive. She didn't have the opportunity to tell the officer that she couldn't have left, even if she had wanted to.

Her heart was in there.

(-.-)

John was washing his hands when his cell phone began to vibrate against his leg. He hurried to dry his hands before the caller hung up. He took a moment to wonder about the unfamiliar number before hitting answer and bringing the phone up to his ear.

"Hello, you've reached John Kennish."

"Hello, John," rumbled a deep, male voice. "My name is Officer Paul Anders –"

"A cop? Is someone hurt?" John demanded, beginning to speed walk to his car. A cop wouldn't be calling him for shits and giggles; something _had_ to be happening and he knew that he had to get home as fast as he could, even though he was an hour's drive away.

"There is a hostage situation in your home," the officer admitted. "Based on information given to us by your son's fiancée we believe that your wife, son, daughters, and a family friend are in the home? Is this correct?"

John thought back to breakfast when Kathryn had been telling him about the day she anticipated on having.

_ "I don't think I'll be going anywhere today – a relaxing day at home sounds nice, don't you think? I might get some housework done too … Oh! Daphne is having Emmett over this afternoon so I'll probably do some baking. Bay texted me saying that she's going to come over for the day so she'll appreciate a treat too. Did I tell you that Toby and Nikki are going cake tasting today? Somehow, that makes it all the more real. I'm losing my baby, John!"_

"As far as I know," John affirmed. He wasn't 100% sure about Toby, but if he was supposed to be with Nikki and wasn't, he trusted her conclusion that Toby was in the home.

"Now, the friend –"

"Emmett Bledsoe."

"Do you have contact information for his family?"

"No," John admitted, thinking that he should. "But his mother's name is Melody, and, _I think_, his father's is Cameron. They're divorced … oh, and they're Deaf. Daphne and Emmett are both deaf too, if that changes anything about how you handle the situation." John supplied, hoping that the handicap didn't put either children in more danger, though he knew that it probably would.

"Thank you. Sir, how far away from home are you?"

"Forty-five minutes, maybe sooner," John answered.

"Drive safely," the officer bade him.

To hell with his safety, he needed to be at home. "Yes, Officer."

It was only after he'd hung up that John realized he'd forgotten to tell Paul Anders about Regina. With a heavy heart, John called the woman, about to make the hardest phone call he would ever have to.

(-.-)

Regina had just returned from break when her phone began to ring. "Couldn't you have called two minutes ago?" She griped, answering the phone anyway, knowing that her boss wasn't on the premises.

She didn't know what John wanted but she was in no mood to argue with the incorrigible man.

"Hello," she snapped.

"You need to get home, _now_." John ordered.

"I'm working."

"There's a hostage situation at the house."

For all of two seconds, Regina thought John was bullshitting her. Then she realized that there was no bravado in his voice; none of the John Kennish confidence. He was being utterly sincere.

Regina thought she was going to throw up as reality hit her over the head and sentences from conversations she'd overheard this morning while visiting with Daphne came to the forefront of her mind.

_"Emmett is coming over; we're going to play a new video game on the big T.V. in the living room."_

_ "Emmett's going to be here? I'll have to stop in and talk to him about a gig – I know I can text him but I like face-to-face so much better, especially after spending so much time of my working hours on the phone, you know?"_

_ "I think I'm just going to hang out here for the rest of today. I might paint if I'm not too lazy. Mom's not going anywhere either so I might do something with her."_

"Is everyone okay? What about contacting Melody? Oh my _God_."

"As far as I know, everyone is fine but I don't think the police know much at this stage. I told the officer about Melody. I'm half an hour out. Nikki is with the officers now."

"I'm going over."

"Don't forget to tell Angelo," John reminded her. He wasn't sure when he had come to accept Angelo's presence in their lives but he knew that, for better or worse, he was Bay's biological father and he wasn't going anywhere.

"I wouldn't dream of it. Get home soon, John."

"Working on it."

(-.-)

Melody clutched Cameron's hand – something she never thought she'd be doing again – in the back of the police car. She felt a pulse of relief as the Kennish home came into view (another first) before it was replaced with fear of the unknown. Her baby boy, her only boy, was somewhere in that house with god knows what kind of a psychopath and she was powerless to stop it; she was powerless to save him.

As soon as the car stopped, Melody was rushing at the police officers, the interpreter in tow.

**I'm Emmett's mother. What's happening?**

"We don't know. Family members have confirmed that Toby, Kathryn, Emmett, Daphne, and Bay are supposed to have been in the home. We know he has them on the top floor. That's it."

**That's it? That's it! My son is in there!**

"Ma'am, we are doing all that we can. We don't know the mental state of their captor; we don't want to push too hard in case he is unstable."

Melody recognized the logic in the officer's words but at the same time, she was a mother and her son had a captor. There was something very wrong in her world right now.

"If you would like to wait with Miss Nikki, you are more than welcome."

Melody turned to where the officer had gestured. A dejected young blonde woman was perched on the trunk of a car, staring at the Kennish house with a blank look on her face. Melody wasn't entirely sure who Nikki was, but she knew a pained kindred spirit when she laid eyes on one. Slowly, Cameron in her wake, the interpreter loitering with the police, Melody walked over to Nikki.

Nikki turned her head, eyes widened as she looked over Melody, sliding off the trunk of the car.

"You're Emmett's mother, Melody," she guessed. "I'm Nikki. I'm Toby's fiancée and Emmett and I play in a band together."

Melody didn't try to communicate anything. She simply stretched out her arms and pulled the young woman next to her, both of them trying to find strength in the embrace.

(-.-)

Regina sat in her car, ignoring the hulking presence of the Kennish house and all that it meant in this moment, instead looking at Angelo.

"My girls," she exploded, emotion coming out of everywhere; alarm in every fibre of her being.

"Our girls," Angelo gently corrected, "are going to be just fine."

Regina looked up at him, eyes deep with emotion. Her entire body shook with the effort of trying not to cry. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"That's all right; you go right ahead," Angelo soothed. "I am going to talk to the police."

Regina glanced over at the uniformed officers before turning back and shaking her head. "I don't think I can handle hearing anything from them right now," she confessed, feeling weak as she did so.

It's not that Regina wanted to stay ignorant, and she wouldn't – Angelo would give her all the information once he was done talking to them. The fact was that Regina needed some time to prepare herself before approaching the officers. She knew that if she were to go talk to them now, she would end up losing her cool. In that house were five people she cared very deeply about. Every moment they were in danger was, not only a moment too many, but a moment those police officers weren't doing their jobs because those people weren't safe. Rationally, Regina knew that the police were probably doing all that they could, more than she was probably seeing from the outside looking in, but Regina was a mother. When her children were in danger, rational had no place in her life.

"Then talk to Melody," Angelo suggested. "I will come over as soon as I'm done."

"Thanks," Regina murmured, though she was unable to muster a smile for him.

Melody was with Cameron and Nikki, the three of them were all holding hands. It was an unusual scene but it was, somehow, fitting for the ridiculously unusual day. Without saying a word, Regina stepped between Nikki and Melody, and held on, because she needed something to hold onto.

(-.-)

John burst onto the chaotic scene that was his driveway, trying to reign in his anger. He was mad at the police officers for not having his family members safe; he was mad at the psycho for having the audacity to walk into his home and take his family hostage; and he was mad at himself for not being able to protect his family, for having to stand helpless on the sidelines, having nothing better to do but pray for their safety.

"John Kennish?" One of the officers called.

"Yes," John confirmed. "Are you Paul Anders?"

"Yes, and this is my partner, Tina Dagwood. We have some questions for you."

"Anything. But, first, is everyone okay?"

"As far as we know. We have had limited conversation with the man and we have limited knowledge about what is occurring inside."

"I see." John nodded, clenching his hands tightly together. "What are your questions?"

Officer Dagwood stepped in. "That window there, sir, what room is that?"

"That's the master bedroom."

Officer Anders presented him with a sketchpad. "Can you draw a layout of the room?"

John nodded.

"And, if possible," Officer Dagwood stepped in. "Can you also draw a layout of the rest of the home?"

"I can, absolutely," John agreed, bringing the sketchpad close to him.

He had just passed the sketch of his bedroom to the officers when Regina appeared at his elbow.

"Officers," she greeted tensely.

"Are you Angelo's wife, Regina?" Tina Dagwood asked. "He explained the switched at birth ordeal to us."

"Right. And you know Daphne and Emmett are Deaf?" Regina asked.

"Yes," Officer Anders told her. "John informed us over the phone."

"Good, good. Uhm, when can we expect to get them out?" Regina pressed.

John lifted his head from his drawing of the lower floor (which he'd been overly focused on so he could ignore the reality of _why_ he was drawing it) so he could pay the utmost attention to the answer. It was a question that had been weighing heavily on his mind since he had gotten that horrific call. How long until his family was safe in his arms again? How long until this nightmare was over?

He was glad Regina had the guts to ask the question. He didn't think he would have been able to.

"We don't know," Officer Anders admitted. "At this point, we're trying to see what the man wants."

"What he wants?" John exploded. "This isn't about what he wants. This is about keeping my family safe."

"We need to know what he wants so you can get your family back safely," Officer Dagwood explained. "Right now, we're trying to get him to talk to us a little more so we can figure out his mindset and hopefully get him to release everyone safely."

"More?" John picked up on the word. "Meaning you've already talked to him?"

"What did he say?" Regina demanded.

"Nothing noteworthy," Officer Anders assured them. "Just typical mutterings. We're working to have a competent conversation."

"Are you going to try talking to him right now?" Regina clarified.

"Yes," Officer Anders said. "And, if you don't mind we'd like to ask you to go wait with the others."

"Also, we know that it's going to be difficult, but please remember to stay quiet. It won't do any good to get him angry; it will only put your children and loved ones in more danger, understand?" Officer Dagwood pressed.

"Understood." Regina nodded, looping her arm through John's. "Let's go over with everyone else."

John gathered up his sketchpad and pencil before following Regina.

(-.-)

"Sir," Officer Anders called. "Let's have a chat."

A dark outline passed by the cracked window, letting the police know that the man was, in fact, listening.

"That's all we want to do. Can we talk about you? What will it take to get you out of there?"

"Leave!" The man bellowed. "Just leave!"

"You and I both know I can't do that."

"That's all I want," the man stressed. "I want you to leave."

"That means you don't want to hurt those people in there. Let them go and then we can have a more civilized conversation."

"No!" The man roared. "They don't leave until _you_ do."

"Let's talk about something else then; we'll come back to that later. Why don't you tell me more about you? What's your name, son?"

"I'm not fucking telling you anything," the man screeched before disappearing from view.

(-.-)

Cameron watched the interpreter's hands fly as she detailed the conversation between Officer Anders and the criminal. His heart began to race away from him as he realized that the police had made the criminal angry, something that the police had ordered the family members not to do.

** Is he violent? **Cameron asked.

**There has been no evidence of violence, **Nina, the interpreter said, speaking as well as signing. **The police have a theory, based on the layout that John provided of the bedroom, that the hostages are either closed up in the bathroom or the closet. At this point, we don't believe the criminal and your family members and in the same direct space.**

** Is he armed? **Cameron wondered.

Nina hesitated. **No one has seen a weapon but we assume there is. We don't know how else he could have gained control over five people without one.**

Cameron closed his eyes, trying to stop visualizing Emmett coming face to face with a gun.

(-.-)

Angelo sat on the trunk of his car, not looking at the Kennish house but, rather, peering into the depths of Bay's art studio. He would rather picture her in there, seated in a dark corner with a sketchpad, iPod in her ears, completely unaware of what was happening, than picture her trapped against her will inside of her own home.

He remembered this morning waking up with Bay and Regina in his apartment. Never would he have thought he'd be there with his wife and child. But, just this morning, that had been his beautiful truth. He could remember offering to make breakfast as Regina applied her make-up and a sleepy eyed Bay – curls gone astray – folded around a cup of coffee. Regina had denied him, saying that she'd promised Daphne a breakfast visit and Bay had asked to go too, leaving him alone to make breakfast for himself.

Then, not long after at all, Regina had called him, saying that both girls were in danger and that she was waiting for him downstairs. He had gone to meet her, the knowledge piercing his brain, but it hadn't yet reached his heart.

If the knowledge were to reach his heart, Angelo knew he would become an emotional wreck like the rest of them. He thought that it would be for the best if he weren't like that.

Denial offered him a clear head and an unnatural calm. He was able to talk to the police about what was happening and see the situation for what it really was, rather than through an emotional lens tinged with hope and despair simultaneously. In this state of denial, he was able to stay strong and comfort those who needed it, especially his rapidly crumbling Gina.

His heart believed that he would wake up soon and it would be morning again. Except, this time, it would be the real morning. And the real morning consisted of him cooking breakfast for his family before they went about their day, returning home safely for dinner.

The real morning would not find him sitting in the Kennish driveway, wondering if he should start praying to a god he had long since stopped believing in over as situation he was not yet ready to accept.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: NuGirl.**

**~TLL~**


	3. Chapter 3

"It's hot," Bay complained, swiping a hand across her forehead.

Summer, plus five people in an enclosed space, didn't make for comfortable temperatures. Everyone had already taken off as much clothing as possible without being indecent. For one of the first times in her life, Daphne found herself wishing that she were a boy so that she could take off her shirt without Kathryn being scandalized – just as Toby and Emmett had done. As it was, she was even jealous of Bay who had one a shockingly short skirt and tank top, compared to Daphne's t-shirt and knee length shorts.

"Water would be great right now," Toby murmured.

**Don't even, **Emmett warned. **I can't even think about that right now.**

"Toby, what time is it?" Kathryn asked.

Toby checked his watch. "Three o'clock. We've been in here two and a half hours."

"It feels like a lifetime," Daphne breathed, frustration and fear overcoming her.

Tears began to prick at her eyes. She felt as though she was going to lose her mind if she had to spend one more minute inside of these walls, staring across the closet at Bay, baking out of her own skin. She wanted _out_ and she wanted out _now_.

"Mom," Bay announced, wary eyes on Daphne. "I think she's losing it."

"Oh, honey."

Despite the heat, Daphne allowed herself to be pulled into Kathryn's slick arms. She felt cold all over, despite the heat in the closet.

"I don't want to be in here anymore!" Daphne cried, taking comfort from Kathryn's embrace.

Emmett reached out and placed a hand against Daphne's ankle, trying to offer more comfort. He was sad to see her breakdown, though he knew they were all heading toward their separate breakdowns. Bay, when she lost it, was probably going to kill someone (and Emmett hoped he didn't look like her prime target); he thought Toby would probably lose his temper – punch a hole in the wall, something like Emmett himself would do; and Kathryn would probably react like Daphne, though the older woman showed absolutely no signs of cracking. It was, in Emmett's opinion, very impressive how strong Kathryn was, especially considering how feminine and gentle she appeared in her day-to-day life.

He flicked his eyes to Bay, but she was staring at Toby. A quick glance at Toby showed the boy with his head pressed against the door, his lips flying with words that Emmett's brain didn't move fast enough to catch.

**Bay?** He asked, but she was already signing.

**The police are talking to that man about us.**

"Did you know," Toby heard the cop begin, "that except for Kathryn, the older lady, they're all teenagers? Every single person in there has their lives ahead of them. Toby's the oldest, and he's getting married next month to a beautiful woman.

"And Bay, the dark-haired little girl, is a wonderful artist. She especially loves to paint. She's very talented; isn't it a shame to stunt all that talent?

"Daphne is very talented too – she's the redheaded girl. She's a wonderful basketball player and an amazing chef – just like Kathryn. They're both _wonderful_ cooks.

"And Emmett takes beautiful pictures. He also likes to rebuild motorcycles.

"But you know what's amazing about Daphne and Emmett? They're both deaf. I'm telling you this for a couple of reasons: so you can see how spectacular they are and so you fully understand the situation. We want to get everyone out of there safe, and that means we don't you to react the wrong way if they don't react the way you expect.

"So, thinking of your best interests, wouldn't it make sense to let them go? It's less responsibility for you, too. What do you say?"

"NO ONE IS GOING ANYWHERE!" The criminal roared. "I don't care what their names are. I don't care what they do. But they will stay in there until you leave and I can do the same in peace."

Daphne's face twisted. She bounced her head off of Kathryn's shoulder in frustration. "Great, he's mad."

"And crazy," Toby added.

"Shh," Kathryn hissed. "I don't want him to hear you."

**Maybe we should all sign from now on? **Emmett suggested.

**That's a great idea! **Kathryn encouraged.

Toby looked dubious. **I don't know if I can.**

** Just try. It's not like Mom or I are any good, really. **Bay shrugged. **We all understand each other well enough.**

** Besides, never a bad time to learn. **Daphne added with the biggest grin she could manage – though it wasn't much of a smile.

**Though if there was, this would be it, **Bay mentioned with an eye-roll.

**You found the good in this situation! **Kathryn congratulated. **We get better at signing.**

Bay could only offer her mother a weak smile – there was nothing good about being lock up in a boiling closet with her family, the girl she was switched at birth with, and her ex-boyfriend who'd cheated on her by a madman with a gun. But, hey, her signing might improve, so, really, what was there to complain about?

Emmett waved, bringing everyone's attention to his hand. **So,** he began to clarify, **the police want me and Daphne out?**

** They want everyone out, **Kathryn interjected quickly. **I think they used the fact that you're deaf as a reason why he should let you out.**

** Do you think he'll actually do it? **Daphne asked.

**I hope so, **Kathryn nodded. **I hope it happens soon.**

"I can't sign what I need to say," Toby whispered. "Why don't we just sign when we talk about him? Besides, I doubt he's listening to us and, if he is, I doubt he cares about how worried I am."

"Oh, honey," Kathryn breathed, "There's no need to be worried. We're going to get out of here soon, all in one piece."

"Mom, I'm not worried about me – well, I mean, I _am_, but I'm worried about Nikki."

"Why?" Bay demanded. "She's perfectly okay out there. We're the ones in danger."

"He has a point. My mom must be worried sick –they're probably hurting over not knowing what's going to happen, just like we are," Daphne supplied.

Unbidden, John rose into Kathryn's mind. She pictured his face and imagined how destroyed he must be – his entire family at risk. She heard his voice – the last thing he'd said to her: _all right honey, I'm off. Have a good day with the kids, and save me something good! I love you._

**I hope someone told my mom, **Emmett exclaimed, suddenly terrified at the idea. It was a very real possibility that Melody was at home, relaxed and unaware.

**I'm sure the police would have called her, and if they didn't, Mom would have, **Daphne assured him.

"Assuming someone told Regina," Bay interrupted.

"She is my mother," Daphne snapped. "No one is forgetting her."

"Oh, I'm sorry! I thought you completely abandoned her to join your real people!"

"Bay!" Kathryn gasped.

**Don't fight, **Emmett begged.

"Guys," Toby hissed, hearing footsteps stray close to the door, but he was ignored.

"I would _never_ abandon my mother."

"But you did! Was she not enough for you anymore?" Bay screeched.

"I just wanted to get to know my other family! You're doing the same thing with Angelo and the baby!" Daphne huffed. "Besides, you moved out! You abandoned your family!"

"No!" Bay's eyes flashed. "I'm trying to find myself while I remember who I am! You're so quick to throw everything to the side, but when someone else loves it, you have the audacity to say you love it more!"

Daphne hurtled to her feet, glaring down at Bay.

"You're a selfish little brat."

Bay also stood but Daphne – with her superior height – looked for more intimidating.

Nevertheless, Bay shouted back, "At least I'm not a stuck-up bitch!"

Aghast, Kathryn prepared to reprimand both of her daughters but before she could squeak out a surprised word, the closet door flew open to reveal the man, gun held out in front of him.

"You two had better shut the fuck up," he warned, pointing the gun at each of them. "Or I'll have to do something drastic. Now, sit down."

Instantly silent, Bay and Daphne sunk to the floor on the respective sides of the closets.

Emmett shook with anger. As the man was distracted by Bay and Daphne, he slunk forward. He made eye contact with Toby, who violently shook his head. Emmett ignored his friend – he, for one, was not content to sit idly by in the corner of the closet and wait to be rescued. He had to do something.

With speed, Emmett sprung up from his crouch, intent on knocking the man out.

The man had faster reflexes than Emmett anticipated. He swung his gun hand around to point at the attacking male and shot, not even flinching at the loud sound that left Bay curled up one the floor, hands on her ears, tears in her eyes.

Toby was enraged at the site of Emmett's blood. He kicked out, connecting with the man's knee. The man dropped to his knees. Toby lunged, not sure if he was going to strangle or beat the man, and ended up with a fist and an open hand connecting with the man's chest. The man was unable to angle the gun to get a good shot on Toby. He did the next best thing; he brought the butt of the gun down onto Toby's head. The boy crumpled, immediately unconscious.

The man watched blood blossom on the boy's hair and hoped he wasn't imaging the new dent in the boy's head; something that would keep the boy out of his way. The man scrambled to his feet and out of the closet, securing the door behind him.

(-.-)

Melody watched as Regina's tense face broke; her friend, who always tried to be strong, looked utterly destroyed. Panicked, Melody grabbed Regina's shoulder.

**What? **She demanded, seeing the same expression as Regina's echoed on every hearing person's face. **What just happened?**

"There was gunshot," Regina explained.

Melody felt a moment of shock, and then one thing ran through her mind: _if anyone was hurt, please don't let it be Emmett. Anyone but Emmett._

__She hated herself for thinking it, but it was absolutely true.

(-.-)

"Get them out!" John roared at Paul Anders. "_Now!_"

"We're trying," Paul responded calmly.

"Try harder. If anyone in there dies, I will come after you."

Paul nodded, not feeling threatened by the frightened father. He faced the house, picked up his bullhorn and called at the man in the house.

"Sir! It sounds like something just happened in there. Would you like to talk about it?"

There was no response.

"You don't want any of those amazing people to get hurt, do you? Why don't you let a few officers go in to help the injured? Even you; are you injured?"

Nothing.

"Five hostages _is_ a lot to handle," Paul Anders reasoned.

"Shut up or I'll shoot another one!" The man roared.

Paul Anders immediately dropped his bullhorn as John's face buckled along with his knees. He sunk to the ground, grasping for air and searching for stability.

_ Another one_, the man had said. Another one, meaning someone had already been hit. Another one, meaning that someone in the closet was bleeding right now. Another one, meaning someone was fighting for their lives – a fight they could not lose.

(-.-)

Bay didn't know what to freak out over first: Toby's unconsciousness or Emmett's gushing wound. She knew she was about to completely panic though; could feel the hysterical crying building in her throat. Not only were Toby and Emmett wounded and in danger, it was her fault. She'd just had to provoke Daphne; she'd just had to attract the attention of the man. Their blood was on her hands.

A sob escaped her lips and then she just couldn't stop.

Daphne glanced over at Bay, but turned her attention to Emmett, taking his hand and squeezing it, trying to bring his attention to her. His pained blue eyes rolled to focus on her.

"Kathryn is going to inspect your wound, okay?"

Emmett nodded, body tense as Kathryn maneuvered into his line of sight. He watched as she gingerly pressed her hands against his exposed stomach. He watched her look closer at the wound, until his eyes flicked to the wound itself, and then he couldn't look anymore. The injury pained – pained so much that he could hardly breathe – but looking at it doubled that feeling. He moved his eyes away from his own body, looking over to a very still Toby, and the bawling Bay that was cradling her older brother's hand.

Kathryn stared at Emmett and tried not to lose her breakfast. She didn't know what to do with all of this blood. She was a housewife, not a nurse. Still, she knew one thing for sure: she had to bind the wound with something to try to staunch the blood flow and keep Emmett from losing too much. Her eyes slid over the walls as she wondered what would be best to use; any number of things _could _work but Kathryn wanted what _would_ work.

Her eyes landed on her scarves. They were as close to bandages as one would get in here.

**Daphne**, she signed, getting her daughter's attention. "Grab the scarves from behind your head."

Daphne turned and began to pull the accessories down from the wall.

Kathryn leaned over Emmett, making sure he could see her lips. He looked so very pale and innocent, wide eyes and stark freckles staring up at her. With his red-tinged hair, he nearly reminded her of Toby. But while she could bandage Emmett, she could not help her son's unconsciousness.

"Emmett, I'm going to wrap up your wound. It will probably hurt as I move you around but don't fight me. It's for your own good, okay?"

He nodded.

"Kathryn, I have them all," Daphne announced.

"Give one to Bay," Kathryn instructed.

"Why?" Bay squeaked.

"Wrap Toby's head where he was hurt. Try to move him as little as possible," Kathryn explained.

"'Kay," Bay sniffed as Daphne tossed her a scarf.

"Daphne, you help me wrap these around Emmett. Wrap them tight."

"Tight?" Daphne repeated.

"Yes; tight."

Together, Daphne and Kathryn rolled Emmett from side to side to get the scarves securely around him. Kathryn was glad that Daphne couldn't hear Emmett's gasps of pain – ones that she'd had to harden herself to; ones that Bay whimpered in response to. Finally, they had done all they could do when it came to Emmett and the scarves and Kathryn settled him on the floor, one of John's sweaters under his head.

**Stay awake,** she instructed him with bloody hands.

He offered her a weary thumbs up.

Kathryn looked to Daphne, who'd lost all colour and verve. She was leaning against the wall, staring at Emmett's blood on her hands, chest heaving. Kathryn was proud of her for remaining calm enough to help her with Emmett, especially since Daphne had been distraught in her arms not long ago at all.

Kathryn's gaze moved to her son and other daughter. She went to move next to them but, just before she did, the closet door flew open and Daphne screamed.

(-.-)

The man sat under the window, contemplating. On one hand, he didn't want to give up a hostage – that would make the damn police think they could win this, and that was _not_ the case. He was getting out of here, scot-free, even if every hostage had to lose their lives, including the pretty little spitfire.

But releasing one of them had its benefits, and the man needed to consider every aspect of _everything_ if this hellish situation were going to work out in his favour. He could let the deaf girl go (originally it had been the deaf boy – boys were more of a threat – but now both male hostages were down for the count). Deafness freaked him out, but that was the reason he was considering _her_ to go, not to let a hostage go. He knew the little redhead was the deaf one – the police had told him so, but even if they hadn't, it was obvious; the woman talked to him and the spitfire was always quick to react to him.

If he let her go, she could tell the police the conditions of the closet but, more importantly, she could tell the parents. Fearful parents could be a hell of a motivator for the police, especially if they had a bleeding child they were crying over.

The man studied the door for a moment longer, though he had already made up his mind what he was going to do. With a resigned sigh, he lurched to his feet, picked up his gun and strode to the closet, throwing it open.

**Thanks to my beta: NuGirl. I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	4. Chapter 4

The man winced as the redheaded bitch screamed.

"Shut the fuck up!" He shouted at her, but she didn't react, confirming that she was the girl who couldn't hear.

The woman pulled the screaming whore into her arms, settling her.

Spitfire was glaring at him from beside the unconscious boy.

"Don't try anything," he warned her in a low voice. He'd hate to shoot her in her pretty little head.

Her jaw twitched.

The man turned his attention away from her and back to his original intention. "Give me her," he ordered, pointing at Daphne with the gun.

"What do you want with her?" Kathryn cried, bringing Daphne closer to her body.

Daphne felt Kathryn's grip increase and her chest rumble with vibrations as she spoke. But Daphne couldn't see anyone but Bay – whose dark eyes were staring straight back at Daphne.

"What?" Daphne mouthed.

Keeping her signing gestures small, and therefore more difficult to understand, Bay explained, **he wants you.**

"Why?"

** To let go.**

Daphne shot upwards. The only thing more terrifying than being in here and knowing the exact danger everyone was in, was being out there and having to pray that Toby woke up, Emmett kept breathing, Bay only received a bruised eye, and Kathryn was only scared – not hurt. Daphne couldn't leave her family; couldn't abandon them to a madman.

Before she could voice her thoughts, Kathryn was facing her, speaking slowly.

"Go to safety, honey. I know you're scared. I know you don't want to leave us, but I need to know you're safe. I love you, okay? We'll be right behind you."

Daphne tried to swallow her fear and nodded to Kathryn. "Okay," she agreed, tears coming into her eyes as she stood up. Carefully, she navigated the bodies scrunched on the closet floor and out the closet door.

Bay watched her leave, an unreadable expression on her face. After the closet doors closed, the words tumbled from Bay's lips. "Mom, what if she's the only one to walk out of here?"

Kathryn stared at Bay, utterly silent as tears appeared in her eyes, making them look liquid. After several long moments, Kathryn finally said, "Switch spots with me? I want to sit with Toby."

(-.-)

The man made Daphne face him.

"Can you understand me?" He asked.

"Yes," she choked out.

"Make sure the police know how bad it is in there and that it will only get worse if they don't leave, okay?"

Daphne nodded, throat clogged with emotion – she didn't want to know what 'worse' entailed.

"And you walk straight out of the house, got it? No stops or detours."

She nodded again.

"Now leave before I change my mind."

Daphne fled from his presence, flying for the front door. The further from the closet, and the closer to freedom, she became the more her tears intensified. By the time she reached the door, she couldn't see the knob through the blur of her tears. Her throat ached from her raw, guttural sobs.

Finally, she door open and she threw herself from the house, crumbling to the sizzling pavement as soon as she was over the threshold.

Two strong arms came and picked her up. She folded into them awkwardly, knowing by scent that it was John who was holding her. She tried to find comfort from the embrace but there was no comfort to be found.

She was shifted away from him, into a set of thin arms, though his steady hands stayed on her back. Daphne knew the new arms better than she knew her own – these were Mom's arms. These were the arms that, from the inside of them, every problem she'd ever had could be solved. These arms meant love; solid ground; and home.

But now most of Daphne's heart was still locked inside that closet, solid ground was nowhere to be found, and _home_ mean danger, fear, and blood.

(-.-)

"Whose blood is on her hands? I know she must be terrified but so am I. What's happening with my son? Are you going to talk to her now?" Nina, the interpreter said to Paul Anders, eyes bouncing back and forth between Cameron and Melody's rapid signing.

Paul held up a hand to stop their hand motions and the questions that were about to come rolling from the other assembled family members.

"Tina," he murmured to his partner. "Lay down your weapons and take the interpreter. I don't think Ms. Vasquez will want to be around another man with a gun right now?"

Officer Dagwood handed her weapons to Paul Anders before approaching Daphne, Nina trailing along at her side.

"Will she sit up and talk to us?" Officer Dagwood asked Regina, who was cradling the tall teenager.

Regina nudged the quieting Daphne. Her daughter peeked her head up, bloodshot eyes immediately focusing on Regina's lips.

"The police have some questions," Regina told her.

"NO!" Daphne screeched. She hid her head in Regina's shoulders, tears coming again. Behind her eyelids, the images flashed: the man was behind her; no, his gun was at Kathryn's head; no, Toby was flat lining; no, Emmett was bathed in blood, utterly still; no, Bay was bruised head to toe, disappearing into the darkness, never to be seen again.

Daphne howled.

**Make her talk, **Melody signed viciously at Regina. **We all need her answers.**

"Give her a minute!" Regina exclaimed.

** A minute! **Melody scoffed. "You have your daughter. Where in the hell is my son?" Melody's voice cracked like a whip across Regina's ears.

"I have a daughter in there too," Regina reminded her quietly. "Don't think I want answers any less than you do."

Regina raised Daphne again. "I know it's hard, but you have to."

With quiet resignation, Daphne nodded and readjusted so that she was facing the police officer.

"Hi, I'm Tina," the officer said.

Daphne watched the interpreter.

**Who is hurt? Any slight injury at all? **The interpreter translated.

**Bay has a bruise on her eye. Toby got knocked out; his head was bleeding and it seemed dented. Emmett got shot in the stomach. He's alive.**

The words felt so good that Daphne had to say them out loud. "They're alive." She, then, was grim and determined. "They're going to stay that way."

Melody sunk to the ground after reading Daphne's hands. She felt Cameron curl around her, and she fell into his embrace for the first time in so long. She cried into his arms. Her poor little boy, who she could not reach and could not help. All she wanted was to gather him in her arms and give him 'magic mommy kisses' like she did when he as younger.

Because magic mommy kisses heal everything, you know.

As the interpreter finished speaking, John was a cluster of emotion. He had one daughter in front of him, tearful but physically fine, so he was relieved. His wife and other daughter were relatively unscathed but still in captivity, so he was worried. His son was unconscious with a dented skull so he was fearful for his boy's life (Toby was just a child; so was Bay – he shouldn't be worried for their lives, the same for his young wife). And then there was Melody and Cameron screaming together on his left, Regina and Angelo holding hands on his right, and he couldn't help but be jealous that they had someone.

So John went to Nikki, who stayed close enough to hear everything, but far enough away that she didn't have to speak to anyone.

"How are you?" John asked.

Her pale lower lip trembled. "He'll be fine!" Nikki blurted. "I have faith that God won't take him away from me."

"Me too," John admitted quietly. "I don't know why this had to happen and what lesson we'll learn from it, but I have to believe it'll be okay … it's funny, because Kathryn is the one with the strong faith, but I feel it in me right now. He will come through for us."

"God has a plan. God loves his children. God will see them, through." She blinked up at him, like he had all the answers she was seeking. "Right?"

John pulled Nikki into a hug. "Right, sweetie."

(-.-)

** I'm sorry, **Bay signed, looking down at Emmett from her new position by his head.

**For?**

Bay swallowed; looking into his eyes was hard. His feelings were always reflected in his startling bright eyes. Right now, every inch of him looked absolutely pained.

**If I hadn't been yelling at Daphne, then –**

** Stop. I would have done it anyway. It just so happened that I needed to protect you and Daphne. It's not your fault.**

** I know it is. But I'm not about to argue with an injured man. **Without thinking about it, Bay reached out and began to run her fingers through his hair. When she realized what she was doing, she justified it to herself by saying that he drew comfort from it, and he deserved a distraction from his pain.

**Would you kiss one? **Emmett asked cheekily.

Despite herself, Bay blushed and glanced at his lips. **Don't push your luck, **Bay warned, dragging her gaze back to his eyes.

**What if it's my last wish? **Emmett pushed. **You wouldn't deny a man his last wish, would you?**

He'd only be joking. Though he was terrified that he was never going to see the outside of this closet again, Emmett would rather joke about it than admit it, and so he joked (about the last wish; not about kissing Bay) but when her face turned dark, he instantly regretted his word choice. She looked so upset, and he couldn't believe that he'd said that.

**You. Are. Not. Going. To. Die. Got it?**

** Got it, **Emmett replied. He carefully catalogued her reaction though, because it meant that she was worried about him; that she still cared.

(-.-)

Kathryn carefully placed one hand on Toby's chest, feeling the in and out of his breathing, as well as his heart beating.

She remembered the first day the ultrasound tech had asked if she wanted to hear her baby's heartbeat. She remembered clutching John's hands and straining her ears until that static-filled noise had appeared, causing her to cry. This was her first baby; this was the little life inside of her; this was a piece of her and the love of her life.

This was all she'd ever wanted.

Now, nearly two decades later, that baby had grown up into a much better man than Kathryn had hoped for. He was kind, thoughtful, talented, and … and unnaturally still. His lips didn't twist into his trademark smirk; his fingers weren't preoccupied, playing air guitar at the most inappropriate moments. She'd always swat at him when he did it in church, though he always left her giggling behind her hymn book after a minute or two.

The still man was not the rambunctious baby she'd raised.

Kathryn caressed his upper lip; the slight scar from his fixed cleft. It was something that no one but her ever noticed. Even John always claimed that he could never see it, that the surgeon had done such a fantastic job on Toby's face.

Kathryn touched the cheeks, rough with slight stubble where, once, there had been nothing but a red blush. She traced his lips that once pressed against her cheek, sticky with jam, that now wrapped around girls and fiancés and microphones.

She did all she could to stay below his hairline and the red-blond hair that she adored to this day. She didn't want to look at his injury; at the blood that tarnished his hair and the dainty head that used to fit perfectly in her cupped palm.

She picked up his hand – calloused from a decade long love affair with a guitar. She wondered where his hands had been since they curled around her finger the day he'd been born; since they'd dipped themselves in her cake batter; since they'd grabbed her own hand and tugged her off to show her a new wonder in the universe. She remembered when Toby had first felt his little sister kick. He had placed both tiny hands against the bulge of her stomach and stared at Kathryn, bug-eyed and demanding a more intricate explanation. That had been Toby's first encounter with Daphne, for the next new experience with his little sister had been with Bay.

He'd been tucked under Kathryn's arm, cradling the tiny baby, his toddler hands only slightly bigger than her infant ones.

"Toby," she breathed into his ear, trying not to cry because she'd already cried enough today, "you come back to mommy, okay? I'm not ready to lose you, baby. I love you – we all love you."

She sat up just as Emmett made a horrible gargling sound and blood spattered the wall.

Bay screamed.

(-.-)

**Someone just screamed**, the interpreter signed to the deaf people, who were wondering what their hearing counterparts were blanching over.

"Screamed?" Daphne repeated. Both her temper and protective streak reared their heads at the same time. She launched herself out of Regina's lap toward Officer Dagwood and Officer Anders, the interpreter flailing behind her.

They both turned at her approach.

"Someone just screamed and you're still fucking here?" Daphne cried, not caring about her language as long as she got her point across to them. "Leave! I don't give a damn if that bastard gets away. They need to get out of there. It's hell in there and it's only getting worse!"

"Daphne," Officer Dagwood murmured. "We can't do that. The criminal needs to be brought to justice."

"Pretend to leave! Set a trap!" Daphne suggested.

"We thought about it," Tina Dagwood admitted. "But we can't ensure that we'll catch him right away. We can't risk him going down the street and doing this to another family."

"Let him!" Daphne screeched. "I don't care about anyone else's family. I care about _mine_."

"We're doing all we can," Tina Dagwood assured her. "But we're stuck between a rock and a hard place."

"Oh, boo hoo," Daphne scoffed.

"We just need time –"

"Time? _Time_? Let me explain some things to you. Every moment spent in that hot, fear-filled place is an eternity. It literally feels like hell. Meanwhile, my brother and best friend could be fatally wounded. They need immediate medical attention. Meanwhile, every moment my mother and sister spend in that asshole's presence, the chance that they'll end up the same way increases. So, don't fucking speak to me about time, Officer, you've just run out.

"So fucking do something."

Daphne turned away from Tina Dagwood and ended up right in Regina's arms. "I just want to know what's happening," she confessed.

Daphne felt Regina nod into her shoulder, agreeing with her. Her next words were side-tracked as Melody's wave caught her attention.

**Good speech**. Melody praised. **Couldn't have said it better myself. Maybe now they'll get their asses in gear.**

Daphne hoped so. Something had to give and the people in the closet had given enough already. It was time for the police to finally step up and do some protecting.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: NuGirl.**

**~TLL~**


	5. Chapter 5

Kathryn quickly clamped a hand over her daughter's mouth, cutting off her scream. Horrified, Kathryn watched Emmett convulse, coughing and wincing all the while. Blood flew from Emmett's lips, splattering against the opposite wall, though his first, unexpected round had gone all over the front of Bay. His once white face was now a ruddy red from the exertion; his lips were comically crimson.

"Mom!" Bay cried, hands stroking Emmett protectively as he panted. "We have to get out of here!"

"I can hear the police talking," Kathryn stammered, her eyes glued to Emmett; poor little Emmett who her heart ached for but that her hands could not help.

"The police aren't working hard enough! _We_ have to do something!" Bay cried, frenzied as she draped herself across Emmett, who clung tightly back to her.

"_Us_? What are we going to do? The closet door still won't open, and it would be foolish of us to make a run for it with the boys in the condition, they are."

"So we don't make a run for it. We draw him in here and knock him the hell out, and then we call the police in here before he wakes up."

"Bay! That's too dangerous! We can't do that."

"Mom," Bay pleaded, wet eyes shining. "If we don't do something Emmett is going to die. Toby could too. I couldn't live with myself if something happened in the two minutes we sat here arguing. I'm doing this anyway. I'd like your help."

Kathryn nodded in consent, heart hammering with nerves. She stood up and stepped nimbly over Toby, drawing aside John's suits. "I have some statutes up here – gifts from Grandma that I haven't gotten rid of yet," she smiled wryly – she wished ugly statues were her biggest worry today. "This one looks heavy."

She bent over and picked up the statue of what she _thought_ was a hippopotamus, but wasn't quite sure. The stature weighed much more than she'd anticipated, and she was huffing by the time she straightened up with it. She doubted that she could lift it up any higher. It was much too heavy to be used as an effective weapon, which she relayed to Bay. Kathryn set her sights on an imposing vulture statue and bent to trade the hippo for it.

As she leaned, the hippo toppled out of her arms, clunking straight onto her foot. A snap immediately followed. Kathryn's stomached heaved. She grabbed a dusty cowboy hat from the shelf and emptied out her bile into it.

Bay had fled to Kathryn's side, rolling the stature off of her mother's rapidly swelling foot. It was bright red and sickening to look at.

"I need to sit," Kathryn breathed, voice faint. "Help me, Bay."

Bay took her mother's arm and placed it around her neck. Kathryn used Bay as a crutch as she hopped over Toby and Emmett. Bay finally situated Kathryn at the very back of the closet, leaning against the back wall. Her head rolled back and she looked faint. Bay pulled a coat down from one of the hangers and used it to prop up her mother's foot.

Then, using all of her strength and being overly cautious of his injured head, Bay tugged the motionless Toby away from the door and up to their mother's side. She kissed his cheek as she arranged him around Kathryn. She didn't want to think of the gesture as 'goodbye' (though the thought snuck into her head). She preferred to think of it as 'good luck'. Then she went to Emmett, who was staring at her.

**Don't do anything stupid, **he begged.

Bay took the sleeve of the sweatshirt that he was lying on and cleared his face of blood and other bodily fluids. The entire time she did so, she knew he was waiting for her answer; for her assurances that nothing stupid would be done by her.

Bay heaved a sigh, trying to clear her jitters, fear, and heartbreak away. "I'm not going to be stupid," she said. To her surprise, she managed to wink at him as she added, "I'm going to be reckless!"

**Bay!**

"You can't stop me," Bay warned. "I'm doing this to save us."

**Bay, please …**

"Help me move you back to Mom," Bay said, changing the subject.

Emmett nodded, and together they moved him back next to Kathryn. She stood over him for a second, before leaning and pressing her lips to his. He grabbed her hand lightly, and Bay squeezed it back before she stepped out of his embrace and turned her back on the trio.

Bay walked over to the statures, eying the vulture one. She was careful not to make the same mistake that Kathryn had and only lifted it a little ways, testing its weight against her own strength. The vulture was light enough for her to manoeuver but dense enough to make a formidable weapon against the man. She scooped it up and brought it into her arms.

Stomach churning, Bay stationed herself just to the side of the closet door. She allowed herself one look back at her family. Toby hadn't moved; Kathryn's eyes were tightly shut; and Emmett was looking at her. **Love**, he signed to her. Bay took him in. Then, as best as she could with the awkwardly shaped stature in her arms, she signed, **love** in return.

Bay looked at the closet door, let out a whoop, and began to beat herself against the wall. She knew the man would come to investigate the clamour, and that's the moment she would strike and, finally, bring his reign of terror at the Kennish household to an end. She paused a few moments into the ruckus, both to catch her breath and listen for the man.

Footsteps were growing closer.

Bay took a deep breath, raising the vulture high above her head. She heard a thump, and then the closet door slid open.

"What the fuck?" the man grumbled.

He stuck the gun in the closet first, but his head followed it. With a shriek, Bay slammed the vulture into his head. The man crumpled and Bay tried not to compare his fall to Toby's. Once he was down, Bay dropped the statue and made a break for it.

She tripped over the man's outstretched arms, falling to her knees, but she couldn't stop; _wouldn't_ stop. She crawled along the length of his body until she outside of the closet (her parent's bedroom had never looked as beautiful as it did right now, nor had she ever appreciated a night sky so much), when she flicked into a standing position, crashing into the wall and window.

"Help us!" She screamed, fingers clawing at the screen. Her knees trembled with relief when she saw ambulances in her driveway, ready to give immediate medical attention. "I knocked him out! Please come get us!"

She saw men – uniformed men with weapons that were for her protection and not her demise – and began to cry tears of relief. It was finally over; she was going to be saved; her family was going to be saved.

Everything was going to be okay. The breeze was wafting through the screen, cooling her sweaty face, her father, Regina, Daphne, Angelo and everyone else was waving at her, hopeful faces shining, and dark hands were at her waist, a harsh but familiar voice seething in her ear, "Now, now, fuckin' Spitfire" and Bay was screaming again.

She was dragged backward – kicking, punching, and screaming, but no match for the hefty man – into the bathroom.

"Shut up," he growled.

He kicked the door shut behind them. He positioned himself taunt against the back wall, her tightly in front of him, the gun to her temple.

She was his human shield.

She was his last resort.

"Let me go," she pleaded. "The police are on the way in. You've already lost."

"I haven't lost, Spitfire. Not when I still have you."

His free hand was gliding over her body. Bay wanted to pull away, wanted to spit in his face, and beat him until he died under her vicious hands. But she couldn't because if she tried, she would end up with a bullet in her brain and she, Bay Madeline Kennish, was not giving in – she was not ready to die. She hadn't survived this damned day just to be carried out in a goddamn body bag.

So she grit her teeth as he fondled her chest and she didn't make a sound when he went up her skirt and put two fingers inside of her – somewhere that no one had ever been before.

He withdrew from her when a cry of "police" reached both of their ears.

There was a breathless moment as Bay listened to chaotic footsteps out in the bedroom. Finally, a pain slapped just outside of the bathroom door. There was a moment of hesitation and then the door crashed down, a stern looking woman with a gun standing calmly on the other side of it.

"Drop the weapon," she ordered.

The pressure increased on the side of Bay's head. Bay yelped and sucked in a breath. As she did so, she noticed that the grip the man had on her midsection was lose enough that she might slip through, giving the police woman a kill shot on the grungy bastard.

Bay caught the policewoman's eye. She glanced down, trying to indicate what she was planning on doing. When she looked back up, she knew the woman understood, but disagreed – shown by a nearly imperceptible nod of her head. Bay clenched her jaw and glanced down again. She was _not_ spending another minute in this man's arms.

Counting on the officer to have quick reflexes, Bay dropped to the floor. As soon as she was clear, the officer barked "drop your weapon" for the second time. But the man didn't listen, because, for the second time that day, gunshots were ringing loudly in Bay's ears. She covered them, cowering into the bathroom tile. That's when the dead man fell on top of her.

Bay's eyes flew open at the unexpected weight, coming face to face with the criminal's masked features. She felt his blood seeping into her shirt, across the chest that he had been molesting. Bay's screams lit the air again – raw and hoarse – as she tried to claw her way out from underneath of the heavy man, but to no avail. He still had her trapped, stealing her breath and her thoughts, making her fearful of his very existence.

The woman cop came to her rescue. She kicked the man's gun away before rolling him off of Bay.

Bay sat up to thank her, and ended up throwing up in the bathtub instead.

(-.-)

**Send up the EMT's!**

Melody grabbed Cameron as she saw the translator relay the orders to them, originally coming from the police. She watched said EMT's rush into the house. Her eyes stayed locked on the door, barely blinking, until the first set of EMT's came out. Their mouths were running along with their bodies as they rushed to the vehicle.

Melody craned her neck, gazed locking on her bloody son.

**In the front**, the translator ordered. **I'm with you.**

Melody allowed Cameron to pull her frozen body into the front of the ambulance, and off they went.

(-.-)

When Toby appeared, lifeless on the stretcher, John almost bawled like a baby, seeing his son like that. He felt Nikki grab his elbow, and knew she understood how he was feeling.

"Where's Kathryn?" She blurted, voicing what was missing from the scene.

Fear struck John's heart as he looked for his absent wife. Why wasn't she hovering over Toby, as worried as he was? Daphne said she wasn't hurt, though Daphne had come out hours before. Anything could have happened in that space in time – unspeakable things that made John absolutely sick to think of.

"Where's Kathryn?" He whispered, voice broken.

"I'm going with Toby," Nikki said, knowing that John's brain had ceased to work while hers had gone into overdrive. "You wait for Kathryn and Bay. I'll meet you at the hospital."

She'd only gone a step away from John when he grabbed her arm.

"Make sure they do anything necessary. I can afford it, but there's no price on Toby's life."

Nikki nodded and ran for the ambulance. She got in the front seat, put her head in her hands, and sobbed the entire way to the hospital.

_Please God, let him live. I'll do anything if he lives._

(-.-)

Bay was trotted out next, wrapped in the arms of the hardy Tina Dagwood. Though Officer Dagwood wasn't very big, Bay looked as tiny as an infant in her capable arms.

Seeing that dark-haired head of curls bouncing along under Officer Dagwood's chin and not on an EMT's stretcher or being zipped up in a bag made Regina let out a small wail of relief. She unwound her arms from Daphne and ran to Bay. Tina Dagwood gently placed Bay in Regina's arms. Regina sunk to the ground, quickly taking stock of her daughter.

"The blood," she gasped, looking up at Tina Dagwood for an explanation.

"Not hers," the officer was quick to assure. "It was the criminal's."

"Bay, honey, are you okay?" Regina asked, running her thumb under Bay's bruise.

Bay blinked, dark eyes that were a perfect echo of Angelo's, focusing on Regina's face. "Mom?" She rasped.

For a moment, Regina thought Bay was asking for Kathryn but a beat after, she realized that wasn't the case –Bay was talking to _her_. And then she was crying for a whole new reason.

"Bay?" John's voice rang out from above them.

Bay shrank against Regina at the unexpected male presence, even though the presence was her father.

"I'm okay," Bay breathed.

She glanced at him, but was quickly distracted by Daphne, who outpaced Angelo and pushed past John, and fell into Regina's lap, on top of Bay, arms going around the other girl.

"I have _never_ been so happy to see you!" Daphne exclaimed.

And the truth of that forced a laugh from Bay as she simultaneously began to cry on Daphne's shoulder.

"Excuse me," Tina Dagwood interrupted. "But I'd like to take Bay to the hospital for a check-up before taking her statement. Would one of you come with us?"

Bay grabbed Regina's hand tightly. "Come with me, please."

"I'll wait for Kathryn," John stated, disappointed that his daughter didn't want him by her side, but trying to give her what she needed.

"What about me?" Daphne voiced. "I want to stay with everyone."

Angelo cleared his throat, moving closer to the group. He didn't want to crowd anyone, but this was his family too, and he needed to make sure they were all right.

"I can take Daphne over," he volunteered. "We can follow your mom and Bay," he said directly to Daphne.

"Let's go," Tina Dagwood prompted.

And so John was left alone, waiting for his wife with a foreboding feeling. But if something was wrong, Bay would have said. Bay would have told him if Kathryn had … had … No, he couldn't think that.

He was about to march into his house and demand his wife when she appeared – in the arms of Officer Anders.

Why wasn't she walking on her own?

"John," Officer Anders called to him. "Please go open my cruiser door. We're going to drive Kathryn to the hospital instead of calling a third ambulance."

"Hospital?" John squeaked, rushing to do as the other man asked. "What's wrong?"

"I broke my foot," Kathryn answered, voice high and weak with pain.

John's knees went weak at the sound of her voice – had she ever sounded quite so lovely?

He watched as she placed in the backseat of the car before her threw himself in after. He grabbed her hand, and pulled her to him, giving her a long kiss. He needed to feel the movement of her lips and the suck of her breath. He needed to hold the warmth of her flesh and drink in the beat of her heart. He had almost lost her, and losing Kathryn wasn't something he could handle – he would never be able to say goodbye to her, not today or any other day.

"I'm so happy you're safe."

**Thanks to my beta: NuGirl. I don't own anything recognizable.**

**~TLL~**


	6. Chapter 6

*ONE*WEEK*LATER*

Bay parked the Thing in front of Emmett's house and climbed out. Except for the day after his surgery, when he'd been curled up in a hospital bed and fuzzy from medication, she hadn't seen him since _that_ day.

She hit the doorbell, watching lights begin to flash on the inside of the house. In a matter of seconds, Melody had opened the door.

**Is Emmett home?**

** He's in his room.**

** Thank you.**

Bay cracked his door open, sticking her hand inside first to let him know that she was coming in before she actually walked inside. He grinned when he saw her and she couldn't help but smile back.

"How are you feeling?" Bay asked, curling up at the end of his bed where he was propped up on his pillows.

**Sore. It aches. But I'm going to be okay.**

"I'm glad. There was a moment when I thought you wouldn't that you wouldn't be."

**The moment you kissed me?**

Bay hesitated. "I … Emmett, can we not talk about this right now?" She saw the look on his face – one that clearly said he wasn't letting it go – and added, "We _will_ talk about it, I promise. Just not right now."

He nodded his acceptance. **How are you?**

"I go see a therapist tomorrow. Right now, I'm sort of stewing in everything. I'm actually ready to go see her."

**How's Toby?**

"Still unconscious. The doctors say that, internally, he's improving day to day and that means he's definitely not brain dead. They also say it's impossible he _won't_ have brain damage when he wakes up but until he does, it'll be impossible to tell what's happening to him."

**And your mom? Daphne said they put her in a wheelchair.**

"Temporarily. Just until the foot heals enough for a walking cast." Bay sighed. "Did you know that Mom's publishers contacted her to write a book about this?"

**What?!**

"I know, like any of us need to be more of a sideshow!"

**Tell me your mom said no.**

Bay shook her head. "She's thinking about it. It's the same problem as last time – our story is going to be told no matter what, so shouldn't we do it right?"

**Why would people want to read about that? **Emmett asked. **Why make entertainment out of someone's pain? It's a real family that got hurt – real people. I just don't get it.**

"I don't know. I don't get it either. I guess it's the same reason we have daily updates of us in the newspaper – so people can feel glad it's not them."

**I guess.**

"I, uh, better go. I just wanted to make sure you were all right."

**I am. And you know I'm here if you need me, right?**

"I know." Bay smirked at him. "Thank you, for that."

Emmett shrugged, a glimmer in his eye. **I aim to please … but, you can repay me by coming back.**

"Saturday?"

**I'll be waiting. **Emmett stretched out his hand, intent on giving hers a squeeze.

Bay stared at his arm, knowing that it was Emmett's (Emmett's, which was calloused from drum sticks, which had held her close and had made her feel loved, which cradled a camera as gently as a baby) but it wasn't his hand that she was seeing. She was seeing the man's hand, coming from a different angle – a hand with split knuckles and ragged nails. She saw that hand sliding down her shirt, imprinting its filth on her skin.

She jumped to her feet, away from Emmett's well-meaning fingers. "Bye!" She said, giving him a tiny wave of her hand.

He looked confused.

She ran.

(-.-)

**Daphne, tell me what it was like, being in the closet.**

Daphne stared, rather confused, at her therapist – Dr. Janice. Though she was only fifteen minutes into her first session, Daphne liked the broad, bottle-blonde who signed. She was very easy to talk to, although Daphne was still slightly apprehensive about being in therapy but if she was here, she was glad she had Dr. Janice.

**I told you already, **Daphne argued.

**Honey, you told me what happened to the others but you didn't tell me about you.**

** There's not much to tell. I was terrified. I had a hysterical moment. But I got out while they stayed in hell. What is my pain compared to theirs?**

** You can't compare pain, honey.**

Daphne liked being called honey. It made her feel more at home.

Dr. Janice continued, **And I'm sure it was very hard being outside after being inside.**

** I didn't want to leave. **Daphne admitted. **I felt like I was abandoning them by leaving.**

** Why did it feel like abandonment?**

** They're my family. They were in trouble. I should have stuck with them.**

** And what would have happened if you had stayed?**

** I could have helped Bay so she wouldn't have been dragged into the bathroom. Maybe Kathryn wouldn't have broken her foot. Maybe we could have gotten out sooner and Toby would have gotten to the hospital sooner and he'd be awake right now … I just feel like there's more I could have done.**

** Or maybe you would have gotten hurt or worse. Honey, how long were you in there?**

** Six hours and fourteen minutes, **Daphne answered promptly and, anticipating Dr. Janice's next question added, **The whole thing was ten hours and forty-two minutes.**

** Six hours and fourteen minutes is a long time to be scared. Tell me, do you feel guilty about going to safety?**

** Absolutely. I didn't deserve to be safe while they were in danger; not when I should have been with them.**

** Do you think Toby wouldn't have wanted you to be safe?**

** No, he'd want me safe.**

** What about Emmett? Would he want you safe?**

** Yes.**

** Would Kathryn want you safe?**

** Yes; she's my mom.**

** Would Bay want you to be safe?**

Daphne hesitated. **I think so. I mean, she wouldn't want me to be in danger but I don't think I would be her first choice to send to safety.**

** Why do you think that?**

** I just know she doesn't love me the most. That's fine. I don't love her the most either.**

** What if the situations were reversed? **Dr. Janice inquired. **What if Bay had been sent out instead of you? How would you feel?**

Daphne frowned, contemplating.

**I think I would be disappointed that it wasn't me. I think it would give me hope – if one of us can get out, so can the rest of us.**

** Would you hate her for going to safety?**

** NO!**

** Do you think she hates you for it, then?**

** … No …**

** Even if she doesn't love you most that doesn't mean she wouldn't want you safe.**

** I guess not.**

** Did you want to be safe, honey?**

** I wanted everyone to be safe, **Daphne exclaimed.

**That's not an answer.**

** I … yes, I did. I didn't want to stay in there. I hated it in there. I wanted to be with my family but I wanted them to be safe too. I didn't want to stay in danger.**

** Honey, if I said if you were worth safety, would you believe me?**

** I don't know,** Daphne confessed, though she was getting the feeling that she _should_ believe Dr. Janice.

**Why not?**

** Because they all deserved safety.**

** I know that. Everyone deserved to be safe, but why do they deserve it more than you?**

** They didn't, **Daphne realized. **I deserved to be safe just as much as they did. I was just the lucky one, I guess.**

** And we'll never know why, exactly, he picked you. But he did. You don't need to beat yourself up for that. He probably would have hurt you if you refused and having you hurt would have also hurt your family.**

** My family is already hurt, **Daphne spat.

**Everyone will heal. You may not feel it, but with every minute that passes, you're healing a little more. Do you believe that?**

** I will when I see it.**

Dr. Janice smirked. **Fair enough, honey, fair enough.**

(-.-)

"Mr. Kennish, Mrs. Kennish," Officer Anders shook their hands before gesturing them into a private conference room. "It's a pleasure."

"Thank you for seeing us," Kathryn replied as John pushed her wheelchair up against the table.

"Any troubles getting the chair up here?" Officer Anders asked, taking a seat across the table from John.

"Not at all," Kathryn assured him.

Officer Anders knit his fingers together, studying John's stern mouth. "I'm assuming you want to get right into it, then?" He guessed.

"You guessed correctly," John confirmed with a crisp nod. "Chitchat isn't one of my specialties, especially when there's matters that need to be discussed."

"I understand. We are, of course, closing the case now that everything's been dealt with. A dead man needs no trial, as you know."

"Yes, of course."

"His name was Brant MacDonald," Officer Anders revealed, passing pictures and information across the table. "A thirty-seven-year-old man originally from California. He's a pro thief, recently released from a three-year stint in one of our prisons."

"So he's done something like this before then?" John asked.

"Stealing, yes. But he's never taken hostages before. I don't think he anticipated anyone being in the home – you took him by surprise?"

"Why would he have a gun if he was planning on going in and out?" Kathryn murmured.

"Probably just a protective measure. Prison makes you paranoid," Officer Anders said ruefully.

"Yet another reason to have faith in the prison system," John muttered under his breath. He refocused on Officer Anders. "So, the reason he was in my house …"

"Was exactly what he told Kathryn – he was simply looking for valuables. As far as I can tell – from speaking with his family and associates – there is no underlying reason for him to be there. Your family is not in any danger."

As John quizzed Officer Anders, Kathryn picked up a photograph of Brant MacDonald – his mug shot. Three years ago, this man had gone to prison, but what did he think was going to happen when he walked out? Did he expect to die a little less than two months after his release? Did he expect to take a family – who'd already been through so much – and make them suffer; irrevocably altering them through panic, fear, and heartbreak?

Kathryn didn't know. Officer Anders claimed MacDonald was only a thief – but he could have run from Toby and robbed another house rather than pointing a gun at the boy who now lay motionless in a hospital bed.

For the first time in her life, she felt hate – pure, honest, will-never-fade hate.

Kathryn put the photo down.

(-.-)

"Why wouldn't John just hire people to do this?" Angelo wondered as he added to the stack of cardboard boxes in the kitchen that Regina had started.

"He is," Regina assured him. "But I was talking to Kathryn this morning when I dropped Daphne off after her therapy session. Kathryn is really worried over some of the heirlooms and other valuables so I offered to do some packing for them."

"It's hard to imagine them not being in this house anymore," Angelo commented, running a hand along the countertops. "I remember the first time I was in here … John and Kathryn were so angry."

Regina smiled, also remembering the first time she'd been at the Kennish home. She'd been so nervous for Daphne, but also completely enchanted by Bay, who she never believed she'd be so close to.

"I know Kathryn is going to miss it here, but John's already bought the new home over at Golden Gates. Besides, I don't think anyone could feel comfortable or safe in here," Regina sighed.

"And I don't blame John for the gated community either," Angelo added. "I'm on his side with this one – the safer the better."

"He offered me this guest house too," Regina blurted. "He also said he wouldn't mind if you moved in as well – he wants everyone together right now."

"Well," Angelo said after a lengthy pause. "It's something to think about."

Regina nodded. "Should we get started?" She asked, picking up one of the flattened boxes.

"Absolutely."

"One of the things she absolutely wanted was her grandmother's jewelry box up on her dresser." Regina drew in a breath, eyes straying toward the room where her daughters had been held captive.

"Are you going to be okay to go in there?" Angelo murmured in her ear, coming to rest his arm around her.

She nodded. "It's over, right?"

"Right," Angelo agreed, but there was no conviction behind either of their words.

Together, they walked into John and Kathryn's bedroom. The first thing to reach them was the smell. It was bitter and acrid, searing Regina's nose. Underneath of that, there was a thick metallic smell that had Angelo fighting to suppress his gag reflex.

On the surface, it almost appeared as though nothing had happened – the bed was neatly made, the books on the nightstands were neatly lined up – everything was as Kathryn had left it that morning, sweeping downstairs to the kitchen to greet her children with breakfast. But there were signs. One of the curtains was piled on the floor, the rod having been used to keep the sliding closet door shut; the screen of the window was pushed out from where Bay had grabbed it; the pretty white bathroom door had been kicked in, so it was hanging off its hinges, black scuff-marks marring the paint job.

Regina moved mechanically to the closet. As she walked, all she could hear were gunshots, Daphne's sobbing, and Bay's screaming. She stood in the doorway of the closet and appraised the small space. The first thing she noticed was the blood puddle on the floor.

_Emmett's blood_, she thought, swallowing hard. This is where her best friend's son had fallen after being shot. Her eyes lifted to the walls – both of which were specked with blood; more of Emmett's, she know, as he was the only one who had come out of the closet bleeding.

Regina took one step inside of the closet, having to hop over a discarded stone bird and nearly stepping on a sweatshirt lying on the floor. She closed her eyes on stood in the middle of the closet, trying to feel what her loved ones had felt while imprisoned here. Instantly, she felt claustrophobic; she felt the need to escape.

She stumbled for the door, accidentally knocking over a cowboy hat; the action increased the sickly acidic smell, making it even worse combined with the bloody smell, and the evil scents had entrenched themselves on everything. Gagging, Regina slammed the door shut on the closet, as if that would seal away all that had happened in there. But, as she went to the window for fresh air, she imagined she could see Bay's fingers gripping the now-broken screen, and she had to wonder – would they ever be free?

(-.-)

As Gina went to the closet, Angelo went to peer into the bathroom. He would never forget the way his heart shattered when he had seen Bay being ripped away from the window by that evil man. For a moment, he'd been filled with hope – they all had – as she had screamed down to them, seemingly free. He'd thought, for a brief moment, that it was all over; wives and children were about to be returns to the arms of parents and husbands safely.

But it hadn't happened that way.

Instead, Bay had been stolen away again.

He'd had to wait long, terrifying minutes to hear if good news would come again – to see that she would come out of this place, that she hadn't really be stolen away by that man for good. Those minutes, waiting to see her face again, had been filled with shouting and gunshots that he still felt to the core of his being. He could still feel that gunshot rattling in his head, repeating one of his darkest fears; _Bay is gone, Bay is gone, Bay is gone, Bay is never coming back._

Standing in the bathroom, with its blood painting walls and floor, Angelo felt that fear as though it were a reality because now he could see how close it had come to being so. That little white void in the blood that covered the floor, _that_ was Bay. She had come so close to being the blood and not the void – one wrong move by the police, one wrong move by the captor, and it would all be over for his little girl.

Angel took a deep breath to steady himself.

Bay hadn't been lost. She was scared, but she was fine. She was breathing; she was beautiful. He was going to see her tonight when they all went out for dinner.

But that didn't mean the gunshot wouldn't haunt him forever.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: NuGirl.**

**~TLL~**


	7. Chapter 7

Nikki rubbed the back of Toby's hand before she picked it up. Gently, she brushed his thick fingers, caressing the calloused fingertips that his guitar had created. She loved his calloused fingers, despite how rough they were when he touched her (her own hands weren't exactly dainty either). But she loved how strong they felt against her, how he could make every inch of her come alive with just a brush of his thumb – as though his unlimited energy was bounding into her.

Where was that life, that energy, now?

His fingers lay limp in her own; his mouth slack; his eyes closed.

What Nikki wouldn't give for his fingers to grip her own, his mouth to start tumbling out words and for his eyes to open, coming to focus on her, filled with light and beauty.

"Toby," Nikki sang, bending low to his ear. "I said it yesterday, and every day before that, and I'll say it again today. I love you; we all love you. We're so worried. So wake up Toby, please.

"The doctors say you'll be damaged when you wake up from the brain trauma but I don't care. I know what makes you _Toby_ will never change, no matter what else does. I just … I really need you to open your eyes.

"I love you," Nikki added again.

She leaned away, clenching his hands but Toby didn't respond – he simply remained still; heart-breakingly still. She kissed his knuckled and wished his eyes would flutter open. It would be a modern-day Sleeping Beauty tale: her comatose fiancé would gasp and sit up at her touch, instantly bringing her into a kiss.

But life was not a fairytale and Toby didn't move.

Nikki cried.

(-.-)

Bay stared at her therapist. Dr. Leighton stared back, warm-eyed and waiting for Bay to say something.

"Can I ask you a question?" Bay wondered.

"Anything. I want you to feel comfortable with me."

"What kinds of things do you have to report to the police?"

Dr. Leighton frowned, bright red lips parting in confusion. "Well, I have to say something if you're a danger to yourself or others. I need to report any knowledge of a crime. Is that what you mean?"

"What if the crime has already happened and the case is already closed?"

"Are you talking about your case?" Dr. Leighton figured out.

Bay nodded. "See, there was something that happened that didn't make it into the police report or anything. No one knows what happened and I don't want them to. But I need to talk about it, I'm going to explode if I don't talk to someone."

"This is a safe place for you, Bay. Most importantly, this is _your_ safe place. If you need to talk about something, this is where you can do that." Dr. Leighton looked deep into Bay's eyes. "What's on your mind?"

Bay twisted her hands together in her lap. "I've never had sex," she blurted.

The therapist didn't look surprised at the statement or confused over why it was made. She simply looked encouragingly at Bay, waiting for the rest of the story.

"I mean, there was a guy that we almost did but he cheated in me. And I'm with this other guy now but we haven't. Anyway, at the end of the night, I was dragged into the bathroom alone with him – not my boyfriend but, you know, that evil guy that … well, you know. He put his hands on me. He put his fingers in me and he put his hands down my shirt."

Bay was shocked to find how easy it was to tell these things to Dr. Leighton; how those words had wanted to cascade from her lips and how the truth had wanted to find its way into the air. She was also shocked to find tears were streaming down her face; she thought she was strong enough to get through this without breaking down but, obviously, she'd found that she wasn't.

"And," Bay chocked out, "I don't know how to feel. I don't even like my dad sitting next to me at the dinner table! I'm scared to tell my boyfriend, who keeps asking to come over, that I _can't_ see him because I'll need to explain myself but I can't do that – I keep telling him I'm not ready, I'm not ready, I'm not ready because he's going to want a kiss or to hold my hands but I don't think I can do that! I just want to forget I ever heard _his_ voice but all I can feel is his hands on me. Please, just get his hands off me."

Bay couldn't keep herself from breaking down. Automatically, her body curled in on itself. Her knees came to her chest, her head buried itself in her arms which had come to rest on the top of her legs. All she could do was wait and tremble, feeling those phantom hands on herself.

"Bay, I'm going to come over and sit on the couch next to you, okay? It's just me; don't panic."

Bay sniffed and attempted to nod, though she wasn't sure if she communicated properly. Still, the doctor approached, sitting a good foot away from Bay on the couch.

"I have some tissues if you need them," Dr. Leighton murmured, recognizing that the girl needed a moment to cry and release the emotions that had been building up within her for over a week now.

Bay turned her tearstained face to the side, looking at Dr. Leighton.

"Am I crazy to be this affected? Much worse things happen to other people. This is nothing but I still feel so sick about it."

"Bay, you were traumatized by something. That means it isn't nothing; that means it was something. And you're not crazy. Any kind of non-consensual touching is a negative experience and should not be taken lightly. Your reaction is your reaction, and that makes it the right one."

"How do I make it stop?" Bay whispered, reaching for a tissue and blowing her leaky nose. "How do I make it all go away?"

"Talking to someone is a great step. Other than that, you heal. You did nothing to bring on this pain and you are a strong, wonderful girl. You will grow past this hurt."

"Are you sure about all of that?" Bay sniffed.

"Of course I am. I'm not going to lie to you and say it'll be fast and easy, but you are a survivor, Bay, and I believe in you."

"Thank you," Bay gasped, thinking it was one of the greatest compliments she'd ever received.

(-.-)

**And how are you doing?**

Daphne summoned a smile for Melody.

**I've been doing okay. Sometimes I feel okay and other time I feel like crap.**

Melody pulled a face. **That sounds like Emmett. One minute he's smiling and the next he's almost depressed. **She made another dissatisfied expression. **I hate that word.**

Daphne shrugged in understanding. _Depressed_ and _Emmett_ didn't seem to fit in the same sentence anyhow.

**The Kennishes have me seeing a therapist. Mom thought it was a really good idea too. Bay has her first session today. I know Kathryn was thinking about seeing one as well.**

** Cameron and I have mentioned it once or twice, **Melody mentioned simply. She didn't want to say that both she and Cameron wanted Emmett to attend therapy; they just couldn't afford such a thing at the present time.

**Is Emmett in his room? **Daphne asked.

Melody frowned. **I think Travis transferred him to the living room for the afternoon. Try there first.**

** Okay,** Daphne nodded and checked the living room. Emmett was spread out along the couch, eyes trained on the T.V.

Daphne caught his attention.

**Hey,** he greeted as she curled into the armchair.

**How much Deafenstein is too much Deafenstein? **Daphne asked, raising an eyebrow at the T.V. screen.

**There's no such thing as too much Deafenstein, **Emmett countered with a roll of his eyes.

**Fair enough, **Daphne agreed good-naturedly. **So where's Travis? I thought Melody said he was in here.**

** Why? Still in love? **Emmett taunted gently.

**No! That was forever ago!**

Daphne laughed slightly, relishing in how normal this felt. She didn't feel like a scared child in a closet tending to her bleeding best friend. She felt like Daphne with Emmett; two best friends whose parents didn't hover, fearing they'd never see their children alive if those children left their sights again.

**I know; I know. **Emmett chuckled. **So, how's the moving process going?**

** Officially starts tomorrow. Angelo decided to move into the guest house with Mom, so we're all going to be together.**

** Don't look so excited.**

** I don't hate him like I once did, **Daphne admitted, **but I don't know how I feel about having him around **_**all**_** the time.**

** It might be nice to have everyone together.**

** I know Mom and Bay are happy to have him there.**

** I'm sure John and Kathryn got another huge house. It'll probably be easy to get away from him if you have to.**

** I guess. So what about you?**

** Mom is making me take it easier than I probably have to but I don't mind. I know she's still scared.**

Daphne nodded, completely understanding how it felt to be catering to a parent's fear. **It's hard seeing them like that. I hate it so much.**

** Agreed. I can't remember the last time Dad was in the house this much; it's starting to get really freaky.**

** You're lucky you only have to deal with two overprotective parents, **Daphne lamented thinking of the legion of gauntlets she'd had to run through just to get out of the house and see Emmett. **Try having four of them! It's insane.**

** But their worry is spread between three kids, **Emmett pointed out. **I'm not saying they have any less worry for you but it might be a little less concentrated. That kinda sounds like a good thing to me.**

** Trust me, there is plenty to go around. The whole family is this giant ball of stress that's just waiting to explode.** Daphne mimed an explosion with her hands. **Toby is still unconscious; Bay is hardly speaking to anyone – she just kind of cut herself off from everyone; I keep waking up screaming which gets everyone all riled up because they think danger is back in our lives; Kathryn is attempting to overcompensate (though I'm not sure for what – our pain, maybe?); John is angry over **_**everything**_**, like one little thing goes wrong and it's the apocalypse; Mom is hovering – can you imagine that? **_**my**_** mom is hovering! -; and Angelo is being Mr. Helpful and Mr. Cheerful. **Daphne shook her head. Her family just needed to revert to their normal selves, but she knew that it was hard to try and find your way back to that normal self. **I can't help but feel that, if Toby woke up, everything will get better.**

** Bay said he'll have brain damage.**

** But he'll still be Toby, **Daphne protested. **And … Bay was here?**

** Yeah; yesterday. Is that weird?**

** A little. She hasn't been talking to anyone at him and Ty texted me yesterday because she hasn't been answering him.**

** That is weird, **Emmett admitted. Bay always seemed to be talking about something and, as much as he hated to admit it, she really did care about Ty. She wouldn't just ditch him.

**Yeah, but like I said, everyone's really off right now.**

** Amen to that!** Emmett signed forcefully.

(-.-)

"Hi, Mom," Kathryn greeted as she brought her cell phone up to her ear.

"Hello, darling. How are you today? In any pain?"

Kathryn focused on her foot, which continually throbbed throughout the day. "Not bad," she reported to her mother. "It's not really paining me at all."

"I'm so glad to hear it," Bonnie trilled. "And how are the children? Any change?"

"Bay is still being very quiet but she went to see her therapist for the first time today. I also think she'll improve once we get her art studio set up again; painting always did help her. Daphne is trying really hard to be the same as before, not that I blame her - some days it's more genuine though. And no change in Toby; Mom, it's killing me. I can do something about the girls – therapy, motherly chats, whatever they tell me they need. But I can't do anything about Toby. I'm not a doctor or a miracle worker. I want to be but I just … can't be."

"The doctors know what they're doing. And you said they were hopeful," Bonnie said cheerfully, struggling not to let Kathryn sense her worry and heartbreak over the state of her family.

Kathryn laughed bitterly. "Doctors _have_ to be hopeful. What kind of beside manners requires you to say there's no hope for your kid, cut your losses?"

"Doctors have to say hard things all the time," Bonnie reasoned. "I'm sure that, if something had to be said, they would say it."

"I want him to wake up," Kathryn exclaimed. "It's too hard to be without him."

"And you thought that him getting married was the worst thing that could happen to him." Bonnie muttered wryly.

"Mom! That's not funny!"

"Sorry; sorry," Bonnie murmured, knowing that it was distasteful but also knowing that Toby would have laughed.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: NuGirl.**

**~TLL~**


	8. Chapter 8

Kathryn watched from her chair as the moving men trotted by her, laden down with boxes. She directed the never-ending flow of traffic, sending them to different rooms depending on which family member's belongings they were cradling in their arms. She was extremely thankful to Regina and Angelo for packing the more delicate things for her instead of having them piled into boxes where God knows what kind of damage could have occurred.

"Where are the guitars going, ma'am?"

Kathryn broke from her reverie, glancing up at the man who was burdened with her son's most prized possessions. She imagined what Toby would be doing if he saw how the working was handling the guitars so carelessly – as if they weren't important; as if they weren't the key to a young boy's dream. Kathryn's throat closed up but she still managed to squeak, "The second garage; the one on the right."

She was glad that the new house had garages, just as the old one had. She would be able to recreate Bay's art studio and Toby's music studio. The garages, she knew, were the places that her children were the happiest. At the old house in Mission Hills, she had loved walking into the garages and feeling the very essences of Toby's and Bay's souls leaking from the walls; their emotions poured into their respective art forms, tangible enough between the four walls that Kathryn could feel what they had been feeling as they lost themselves in art.

She couldn't wait to see what they would create in the new garages.

Kathryn refused to believe that Toby might not get the chance to use his new garage.

She looked up as John came up behind her, gently resting his large hand on her bony shoulder and giving the warm flesh a soft squeeze – a gesture she took great comfort from.

"So," he murmured, "how do you feel?"

John knew that Kathryn hadn't been a huge supporter of moving to a new house – though, after the incident, she hadn't supported continuing to live in the old house either. Still, he'd picked a house that, he thought, resembled their old one enough that she would feel at home (though this house was in a much more secure location). And it was also closer to the care facility that Toby would be moved to if he did not become conscious by Thursday. Though John was praying the move would not have to be made because Toby miraculously woke up and everything was fine, the move _was_ become more of a reality. And when that reality eventually came to pass (as he, with a sinking heart, knew it would) it would be much better to be seven minutes away from Toby instead of nineteen.

Kathryn titled her head to the side, internally musing about her new home. "Hmm … well, I _like_ the house," she decided, "I just think that it's going to take quite a bit of work to turn it into the home that our old one was."

Understanding immediately, feeling her pain, John slid his hand down Kathryn's arm, taking her hand and holding it tightly. He bent as he went, crouching beside her chair so that they were nearly eye-level. "Everyone will move in and be here soon – then it'll all be the same as it was. It'll be perfect."

"The same; perfect," Kathryn breathed, as though the words were an ancient prayer; a line of magic; a revered answer to the chaos her once orderly life had become. "I would really, really, like things to be the same."

(-.-)

"This is twice as big as the house in East Riverside," Regina commented to Adriana, sorting out a box of utensils while her mother unpacked a large box that was full of pots and pans.

"Forget East Riverside," Adrianna scoffed with her usual sass and charm. "The Mission Hills guest house could fit inside of this one _at least_ twice."

Regina subconsciously cringed at the mention of the Mission Hills house – she no longer pictured the grand mansion that she had stolen from Daphne and gifted to Bay when the girls were just three years old. Instead, the horrific stench of suffering immediately flooded her nose and the image of bloodstained walls pressed itself against her shut eyelids. Her senses were overwhelmed by the horrific aftermath of that day, and her brain was overwhelmed by imaging if, _that_ was the aftermath, what had those terrible hours on the inside really like?

No matter how many other memories she'd made in that house, that final memory would _always_ be the one that would always come back to Regina whenever she thought of that time in her life when she lived there. If she ever saw that house again (though Regina highly doubted she'd have a reason to ever go back to Mission Hills again) that was how she would always picture it. Even after John's hired cleaning crew started work tomorrow, the house was restored to its pristine, untainted condition, and even after a new family had moved into the house, knowing what had happened in their new living quarters but never able to fully comprehend it, to Regina – and every other person who was there on that horrible day – Mission Hills would always be a place of pain, brutality and suffering.

Adriana was swift to notice Regina's reaction and hurried to her adult daughter's side, hugging Regina tightly to her – though her girl was no longer the size to fit against her mother perfectly. "Oh, my baby," she hummed in a soothing tone. "I picked such a horrible time to go to Puerto Rico," she admitted. "I should have been there for you, and for Daphne, and for Bay, and for everyone. My heart aches when I think of what my babies went through and how I wasn't there for anybody."

Regina turned her head into Adriana's shoulder – she felt her heart breaking after her mother's confession. She also felt tears beginning to pour down her face. "I just felt so damn helpless, Ma. I couldn't help my girls – my girls who I would give my own life to protect but I've never been able to shield them the way that I, as their mother, should have been able to. I … I'm just a really shit mother."

And that's when she completely lost it.

Adrianna stayed still, cradling her daughter and rubbing soft circles on the small of Gina's back until she thought the younger woman had calmed down enough to continue with the conversation.

_"Gina_," Adriana scolded. "Do not say that about yourself! You have had to make a _lot_ of hard decisions concerning those two beautiful girls. And you made every one of them with _their_ best interests at heart. As for being able to protect them – specifically from that insane madman that _no one _could have saw coming – there was nothing differently you could have done that day. Nothing _except _for being in the house being held hostage with them. And, as your mother, I will never stop being thankful that you weren't."

She tightened her grip on Regina at the terrible thought. Anguish seemed to gush out of every part of her from the simple thought of her baby girl being in such peril – her granddaughters were an absolutely agonizing thought, but her_ own daughter_. If Regina had had been inside that day – no, if the man had shown up earlier when Regina had been in the house, Adriana could be burying her only baby right now. Or, someone else could be burying their baby now. One move differently, and the day could have turned out more tragically than it already had.

They were all lucky – every person in that closet and everyone who loved those people. Everyone was scarred, everyone was hurt, but everyone was breathing and that was the most beautiful thought Adriana thought she'd ever had.

"You are _safe_," Adriana said forcefully, squeezing a still-weeping Regina. "Your girls are _safe_. You have not failed; you can and will protect them, just as you have done all of their lives. You can still do that, okay?"

Regina nodded against the warmth of her mother's flesh. "Okay."

There was a rattle behind the emotional duo, causing the women to step apart, eyes locking on the disruptive intruder.

Angelo peered around the edge of a rather large cardboard box, carefully taking stock of the situation before him.

"Regina?" He gasped. "Are you all right?"

"Perfectly fine," she answered, struggling to reclaim her usual decorum. She rubbed lightly at her eyes, straightened her rumpled clothes, and forced a smile on her face.

Angelo frowned, distrustful of her response, and glanced at Adriana. The older woman shook her head slightly, warning Angelo that not only should he not mention it, but that he should not push Regina any further.

Angelo nodded back at his mother-in-law, and shuffled the box in his arms while saying, "Gina – these are your clothes. Which room did you choose?"

(-.-)

**Ty: I want to see you.**

** Ty: Bay please don't ignore me.**

** Ty: I know you went through some hard things. I want to help you heal.**

** Ty: Bay just answer me.**

** Ty: I care about you. Let me help you.**

** Ty: Please don't shut me out.**

** Ty: Just come see me; just you and me. We can do anything/talk about anything you want.**

** Ty: Bay 3**

** Ty: I'm here when you want to talk you know I am.**

Bay closed out of Ty's final text message. She wasn't ready to see him. She didn't feel like seeing much of anyone. Sitting by herself and slowly claiming her new space was the only thing that sounded even remotely appealing in this moment. It required nothing more than the company of headphones.

Her phone vibrated from inside her pocket.

Bay dug it back out, already feeling waves of guilt washing over her. Ty would understand if she needed time alone – she just needed to tell him that. At the very least, she owed her concerned boyfriend an explanation but she couldn't seem to give him one.

But when Bay read the message, she was surprised to find that it wasn't Ty after all – it was Daphne.

**Daphne: Want to do something stupid and probably really destructive?**

** Bay: That's my life in a nutshell.**

** Daphne: So yes?**

** Bay: So yes.**

** Daphne: Okay. I'll drive. Meet me at my car, like now.**

Bay existed her new room, stumbling awkwardly throughout the new house – this layout was going to take some getting used to. It was obviously different from the home she had grown up in; Bay was having some trouble adjusting.

Still, she made it to the front door unscathed. Kathryn was still parked in the doorway, surveying the very last of the boxes.

"Where are you going?" Kathryn immediately demanded, spying her daughter coming toward her.

"With Daphne," Bay whispered.

"Oh." Kathryn smiled – if there was one good thing to come out of the day spent in the closet it was that, after the final blow-up on the inside, Bay and Daphne had not fought once … Even though the fact was that Bay had been eerily silent for the past week was beside the point. "Well … have fun! And call me every hour!" She tacked on the command at the last second.

Though Kathryn had been very relaxed about communication in the past – a test here, a test there, and be home roughly at curfew would normally have sufficed for her. But now, Kathryn was more than aware of all the horrible things that could go wrong in the world. In the course of a seemingly normal day, you could lose your children forever. The fear of God, the fear that you would lose them once and for all, could be put into you _on a day when everything had started out normal and happy._

"K," Bay consented, strolling out the door to Daphne's car. Her redheaded "sister" was already in the front seat, tapping her fingers along the top of the steering wheel.

Bay slid in the front seat, pulled her seat belt across her body, and then she curled her legs up to her chest. She rested her cheek on top of her knees and looked to Daphne.

"Ready?" Daphne asked.

Bay offered a thumbs up before she turned her head to look out the window. She watched, blank-eyed as her new street rolled past, as well as the security station that guarded the only road into the fancy cul-de-sac that Bay now resided in. The security guard said a quick hello to Daphne as the little car drove slowly past him,

"We're getting Emmett," Daphne began to explain, knowing that Bay had no choice _but_ to listen when she talked. "Melody's not at home so he says he's excited to get out for a bit I'm a bit worried though. Travis told me that he has to help Emmett get around; that Emmett is still in a lot of pain when he tries to get around on his own. You saw him, did he look okay to you?"

Daphne didn't really expect an answer, though she kind of wanted one. She was mostly chattering to fill the awkwardness she felt settling over the car. Though Bay often sulked and attempted to give the silent treatment, she wasn't overly good at it. Daphne wasn't used to having Bay be wordless. She wanted Bay's chattiness to return to normal because then the family would be one step closer to that coveted word – if one person could return to that place, the rest of them could.

"He stayed laying down," Bay mumbled when Daphne finally stopped in front of Emmett's house. "I didn't see him move much."

"Oh," Daphne nodded. "I'm going to go in and get him. I'll be right back."

Bay gave another thumbs up and was left alone in the car. She filled the lonely minutes by fiddling with the radio – something that had no programming since, obviously, Daphne had no reason to do such a thing. She'd finally settled on a station – one that was playing something cute and slow – when Daphne settled Emmett into the backseat.

"Where are we going?" Bay finally asked Daphne.

**You didn't tell her?** Emmett exclaimed. **She might not want to go.**

Daphne shrugged in response to Emmett but began to explain the plan to Bay. "I heard John say that the cleaning crew was going into the house in Mission Hills tomorrow and I really wanted to have another look at it before it's gone forever."

"Let's go," Bay said suddenly. "I want to go _now_."

"Done," Daphne assured her and they drove off to Mission Hills.

Bay felt a hard tug in her gut, seeing the house she grew up in so empty. Despite the heat of the day, the house looked dark and dreary. Bay felt the chill of abandonment run thickly through her veins. Her home was lonely. All the dreams, fears, smile and tears of her childhood were wasting away in an art studio that no longer held art and a little girl's bedroom when that little girl had ceased to exist, fading away into the peeling quote and the dusty carpet. She looked up the house and felt the inexplicable urge to cry; this was her _home_. But it had been stolen away from her. She would never be able to go home again – not really.

She climbed out of the car and approached the front door like she had so many other times in the past. She curled her hand around the familiar knob and twisted to find it locked. Daphne came up beside her, half-supporting Emmett against her left side.

"Key?" She offered Bay.

The dark-eyed girl snatched the piece of metal from Daphne's hand and inserted it in the door. The front door swung open, revealing the stripped kitchen.

Bay stepped inside first, her footsteps echoing along the walls. The house felt frigid without Kathryn's warmth infusing the walls. Bay almost couldn't bear to look around – there was no furniture, no pictures, no flowers neatly arranged in their vases. There was positively nothing left to say that the Kennish family had lived here once; that they had extended to include the Vasquez family and the surly Sorrento that somehow belonged too.

Bay left Daphne and Emmett behind her as she forged up to her old room, not entirely sure why her heart felt like it was breaking.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: NuGirl.**

**~TLL~**


	9. Chapter 9

Bay stepped into her bedroom, nearly sobbing over how empty it was. This was the place of her dreams; of her nightmares. Bay gently touched the quote upon her wall. One of the letters was curling away from the painted drywall.

Her stomach sinking, Bay leaned against the wall for support but ended up sliding downward, coming to rest on her plush carpet. This was her _home_ except it wasn't home anymore. This house looked as empty as she felt on the inside. The house had been gutted, while she felt like she had.

When John announced his intention to move, Bay hadn't protested. She'd been slightly catatonic, more than a little sleep-deprived, and so emotionally drained that she hadn't thought about what moving meant. At the time, it represented to her what it did to her parents – running from the events of that day. And while Bay agreed to the running, while she agreed that she would never have been able to live in this house again without checking over her shoulder every two seconds and without assuming that every small creak was a sign of danger, a sign that the day was going to repeat itself, she hadn't really thought about how it meant that her childhood home would now stand empty.

This had been her room since, literally, before she could remember. This room had been her nursery. These four walls had witnessed her at all stages of life. At some point, she must have been absorbed into them, at least a little bit. There was a ghost of her in these walls – infant her, year-old her, two-year-old her, and so on – and she was supposed to let that happy little girl, that angsty teenager rot within these walls? Someone else was going to move into this room – perhaps another little girl – and she would never know who had been here before her; she would never know about the smiles, the tears that Bay Kennish had cried in these walls.

For the first time, Bay experienced the tragedy of living – once you moved on, you were forgotten and there was no way to make sure that people remembered you.

Bay didn't want to be forgotten. She wanted to be remembered; she wanted to stay in people's minds, particularly as the child she had been. Specifically, _she_ wanted to remember the child she had been. Before that day, before Emmett had broken her heart into hundreds of pieces, before she had discovered the truth about the switch, even back before her simple teenage rebellion – when she had tried drinking and cigarettes while staying out late. She wanted to be seven years old again, hiding her eyes against Toby's shoulder because they'd gone behind their parents' back and decided to watch the Saw movies together – the most horrific offence of her young life at the time.

She wanted to be innocent again but she knew there was no way she ever could be.

(-.-)

**Should we go after her? **Emmett wondered, staring after Bay.

Daphne shook her head, long hair whipping. **I think she needs a minute.**

** Do you think we made a mistake, coming here? **Emmett wondered, not sure how his best friend would respond.

Daphne hesitated – not sure how to answer. It was hard to judge when they had only just stepped into the house. **Maybe? I don't know. My therapist mentioned 'closure' and I thought that if I saw the house, bare, with no good **_**or**_** evil in it, I might feel better about it … Or, at least, not quite as bad. **She shrugged, semi-embarrassed about sharing her thoughts so open, even if she often did exactly that with Emmett. **Is that dumb?**

** No, no, it's not. **Emmett assured her. **I think it makes a lot of sense. It feels like the right thing to me, anyway. But, Daphne, does that mean you want to go up to John and Kathryn's room?**

** Yes! No! Maybe … **Daphne's hands flew with her indecision and her body heaved with the force of the sigh she released. **I want to see it, like the reality of it, not what it looks like in my nightmares. But, on the other hand, it literally **_**is**_**the place of my nightmares and I don't know if I can face it.**

** But you just said that you wanted to see it outside of your nightmares – the reality of it. **Emmett was quick to point out to her. **And this is the last time for you to face the reality before it's cleaned away, bought my someone else. **Emmett took a breath. **I really think we should go upstairs.**

Daphne cocked her head to the side. **Do **_**you**_** want to go see it? I mean, not for me or Bay, but for you?**

Emmett nodded slowly, thinking through his answer before he gave it to her. **I'm not just here for emotional support, though you know that I'm always ready to do that for you. I want to face my own demons while I'm here. Sometimes I feel like the memories of that closet are slowly killing me. I need to find my own closure before I go completely crazy.**

Daphne stretched out her arms, enveloping Emmett in a hug. He clung tightly back, trying not to be overwhelmed by the thought of that day. But the memories were all too clear.

_The plush carpet suddenly felt hot and uncomfortable along his bare back, like tiny needle pricks sliding into his skin. He tries to focus on this tiny pain, rather than the searing blossom in his stomach. He'd never imagined what it would feel like to be shot; never thought that he would know. Now that he is experiencing it, now that he knows what a bullet in his skin feels like before it tears through his organs, he wishes that he never found out._

_ He especially hates how Daphne is teetering over him, his blood on her hands because she's just dedicated herself to bandaging him. He thinks of all the times he has spent with Daphne – how he took her hands one day and taught her how to sign._

_ He thinks of how scary it would be to be without Daphne. He's done it, once or twice, throughout his lifetime. And Emmett has other friends, other priorities, but nothing can quite replace the fact that the he's spent most of his life with her, has had so many new experiences together. He loves Daphne, not in the way he always thought he did, but he loves her in the way that she's his best friend, has been so long for nearly as long as he can remember._

_ He hopes that they will make it out of here, that she can finally teach him how to make lemon bars like she'd decided to last month._

_ She starts crying and he tries to find the strength to tell her to stop. But he simply doesn't have that strength and he has to turn his head. His eyes lock on Bay, his beautiful Bay who he hurt so much._

_ There's no one in the world that he loves quite as much as Bay. He loves Daphne, he loves his mother, he loves his father, and he's thought he's loved other girls in the past, but Bay always takes the cake when it comes to him. He wishes that he wasn't so stupid – that he didn't hurt her. Because one moment of venting his frustrations, one moment of trying to hide from the problems that eventually came for him anyway, was not worth losing her forever._

_ Emmett swears if they make it out of here alive, he'll finally atone for his sins._

_ He swears if he lives to see another day dawn, he'll prove to her that she's the only one for him._

**Are you ready to go look for Bay?**

Emmett watched Daphne's hands, signalling a 'yes' when she was finished. He was always ready to go look for Bay. Especially now that his head and heart were heavy with memories of that dark day, especially now that his promise weighed heavily on his mind. He was also motivated by the fact that Bay was hidden in the house, probably hurting. He couldn't stand seeing anyone he loved hurt, above all the girl he cared for the most. He wanted to protect all of his loved ones from all of the harms that could come their way – but, obviously, he couldn't do that.

He let Daphne support some of his weight – hating how insignificant and needy it made him feel. But he couldn't walk on his own, even this excursion was taxing him more than he had anticipated when sitting at home. But he was glad to be back on his feet, even in such a small capacity. At home, if he wanted to leave his bedroom, Melody made Travis carry him from place to place – to the embarrassment of both teenaged boys.

Daphne peeked around the corner to Bay's old room. She drew back.

**She's in there. **Daphne paused. **She's crying … I wanted to go look at the guest house, alone, if you wanted to go talk to her.**

** Okay,** Emmett agreed. **But are you sure that you want to go alone?**

Daphne nodded, face tight. **It's not going to be hard. I just want to see the place again, remember just how I went from East Riverside to all of this.**

** A twist of fate, **Emmett reminded her, a hint of irony on his handsome face.

**Exactly,** Daphne agreed. She held onto him as Emmett propped his weight against the wall. **Are you going to be able to manage getting in there by yourself?**

** It's four steps, worrywart. **Emmett nudged her. **Go, she probably heard us come up and now she thinks we're being creepy and spying on her.**

Daphne took a step backward, grinning slightly. **No, that's just you.**

Emmett smirked at her retreating back before heaving himself into Bay's old room.

She looked up at him, pretty face streaked from tears. Emmett dropped to the floor a few feet away from her, unable to keep himself upright any longer. His stomach burned from his stitches and he heaved for breath – something that, two weeks ago, would have been unimaginable for the fit teenager; unable to walk into a room without suffering shortness of breath? Perish the thought!

**Wanna talk about it? **Emmett offered.

Bay shook her head. "I don't know what I would say," she admitted softly.

**Anything. It's me, remember, you can talk to me.**

"I don't feel like I can talk to anyone," Bay sighed. "I feel so closed off from the world lately. I feel like there's this wall between me and everything and I don't know if I can break through it."

**Daphne mentioned you haven't been talking around the house lately.**

Bay was quiet, considering this. "No, I guess I haven't … I guess you are the one I can talk to. Even if I'm not really talking about anything."

**That's how the best conversations come up**, Emmett said, not knowing how to comfort her, because he didn't know what was making her so upset. **Bay, why are you crying?**

"It sounds so stupid in my head, but I guess I'm crying for me. I'm crying over all that I could have been and all that I lost. I lost pieces of myself that day but I'd already lost so much of me before that and I'm only thinking of it now. Looking back, I was a child so long ago … I'm still a child. I'm not ready to be a grown-up, Emmett. I'm _not_."

Emmett didn't know how to respond, so he just tried to be there. **It's okay to still be a child. You don't have to grow up all at once.**

Tears streaked even more ferociously down her reddening face, her dark eyes storming with an unspoken thought. "But I think I did, Emmett."

And then she said no more.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: NuGirl.**

**~TLL~**


	10. Chapter 10

Daphne stood in the empty kitchen, thinking of how she'd felt the first time she'd stepped into the empty kitchen of the guesthouse. She'd been so afraid, so nervous, so confused. All of a sudden, she wasn't Daphne Vasquez; she wasn't who she always thought she was. Her mother wasn't Regina Vasquez and her father wasn't the long-absent Angelo Sorrento. Her grandmother wasn't really her grandmother. Her life wasn't really hers.

Because she was actually a Kennish.

She was a daughter to a mother she had never seen; a daughter to a father whose name she didn't know; a sister to a brother she had never imagined having. She was supposed to have belonged to a life of affluence, where everything in the world was at the tips of her fingers. If she had lived her proper life, if she had retained her true name of _Bay Kennish_ from the very beginning, she never would have woken up some mornings, wondering if her mother would be too drunk to make her lunch so she would have to go hungry through the rest of the day. She never would have had to go through all of the grade school bullying – the fists thrown and the angry shouts she couldn't understand because in her proper life, she never would have gotten sick. In her proper life, she would have been able to hear.

It was all too much to think about –the differences between her two lives. She'd dreamed of it once, and she hadn't liked the way that it had made her stomach churned when she finally forced herself to wake up. She loved Regina, she loved Adrianna, she loved Emmett, and she couldn't imagine never knowing them, even though she loved the Kennishes now too.

She had come a long way from being the white skinned, blonde haired, blue eyed girl with the Spanish last name, living on the bad side of town with a struggling mother. She didn't necessarily know if she liked all of the ways she had changed from then to now: sometimes she thought that she had become a stronger person, learning to adapt to all kinds of new situations and learning how to live with all kinds of people – every single one of them unique and slightly insane in their own ways; sometimes she thought that she had degenerated as a human being, she thought that she was becoming to spoiled, too good for everything she had left behind and she didn't want to feel like that. She wanted to remember who she had been and where she had come from but surrounded by all this beauty, all this money, and all of the new opportunities that such wealthy parents could offer she knew that she got caught up in living the high life she had always lusted after when she was wearing patched clothes and eating peanut butter sandwiches every day for lunch.

_It's ironic,_ Daphne mused, _that I never felt safe in East Riverside, but I was never really harmed there. I always felt secure in Mission Hills but this is the place that has given me the most pain._

Her thoughts are heavy with bitterness.

In East Riverside where guns and drug deals and god knows what else are readily available, she had stayed safe in her little room with the bars on the windows that made her feel imprisoned. She had gotten nervous a few times, walking later in the evening when she could see shadows of unknown people in the alleys, but except for that man who had attempted to follow her once when she was thirteen, she had lived there unscathed. When she had come to Mission Hills, land of the rich and the secure, she had experienced more emotional physical turmoil than she'd ever experience again. Never again would her hands drip with blood, would she tremble and cry in front of a gun, would she stand next to a police officer and pray for her loved ones' lives.

She thought of Kathryn, with her broken foot; she thought of Toby, unconscious in the hospital; she thought of Emmett, struggling with his bullet wound every day; she thought of Bay, stony eyed and quiet about a secret pain; she thought of herself, unable to find some sense of peace and equilibrium within herself.

She knew Bay and Emmett were probably wondering where she was. She knew she should probably go back to them but she wasn't ready yet. She sank onto the floor, placing her forehead on her knees and began to cry.

She wasn't ready for anything yet.

(-.-)

"Are you in a lot of pain?" Bay asked.

Emmett shrugged. In truth, it was getting worse with every passing second, as was his longing for his painkillers, sitting unhelpfully on his nightstand at home. But he wasn't going to tell her that; Bay already blamed herself for his injury, he wasn't about to admit to her how much it hurt.

**I'm managing.**

Bay rolled her eyes, a little of her old sass obvious in her face as she shot back, "You're white as a fucking sheet."

**Potty mouth,** Emmett accused.

Bay's mouth quirked up into a smile for a brief second before it fell and she simply shrugged. "You do look hurt."

**A kiss might make it better**, Emmett joked, hoping it would make her laugh.

Bay's eyes seemed to darken. "You remember that I have a boyfriend, right?" She asked him.

_A boyfriend you haven't spoken to in days,_ her inner voice reminded her, _a boyfriend that you've been refusing to even think about._

**I remember … I was just trying to make you smile, Bay.**

"I haven't felt a lot like smiling lately. No one has. It's like there's nothing left to smile about, Emmett."

**There's always a little something to smile about. Everyone is hurt right now, I know, but there are still good things in life.**

"Like what?" Bay asked him, her eyes finally coming to meet his. "What have you smiled about lately?"

Emmett pondered her question, wanting to give her a genuine answer. In the past week, since he had been freed from the closet by the paramedics, what had he smiled about?

**I smiled about being alive; I smiled about every being alive. When I woke up after my surgery, and Mom saw that I was going to be okay, her happiness made me smile. Travis made me smile when he picked out one of the funniest movies I've seen in a really long time. You made me smile when you came to see me. Daphne made me smile when she came to see me. **He hesitated, wondering how far he could push her in regards to reminding her of his feelings. In a normal circumstance, she would ignore his little hints, brushing them off as though they never happened, but this was not a normal circumstance and she'd already become defensive about Ty once. He didn't want her to shut him out, but his arms were aching for her to return and he couldn't back down, not now. **And even though it's a really difficult emotional situation right now, just being here next to you, it makes me smile. You always make me smile.**

Bay dropped her eyes but didn't turn her head, like she did when she really wanted to ignore him because she knew, by shielding her lips and eyes from him, she cut off all possible communication between the two of them.

"I don't understand why you say things like that," she choked out. "I'm not worth you."

Emmett snapped his fingers so that her head whipped up, focusing on him. **I would run through fire for you. You are worth everything.**

"Even a bullet in your side?" She cried, and Emmett could see actual tears in her eyes.

**Even a bullet in my side, though that wasn't your fault; in no way can that be blamed on you.**

"_Everything _can be blamed on me!" Bay screeched. "If I wasn't such a worthless person, if I wasn't such a bitch than nothing would be wrong right now. If I had been better than it wouldn't have happened … but I'm not better." She covered her face with her hands in despair. "I'm not better."

Emmett grit his teeth against the pain and inched closer to her. But as soon as she heard his body move, she shot to the other side of the room, her fully working, completely healthy body able to move much faster than his.

**I'm sorry, **Emmett apologized automatically. He didn't know what he'd done to make her react so badly but he knew that it must have been his fault. **I didn't mean to make you upset.**

Bay looked at him, shaking her head. "It's not you, Emmett," she said finally, "This time, it's really not you."

He tried to struggle to his feet, to go to her but Bay sprang up and held out a hand to stop him from continuing his quest to stand.

"No, don't, it's okay," she assured him. "Look, I'm going to go look for Daphne … where did she go, anyway? … No, don't worry about it. Really, I'll go find her and we'll go up to the bedroom and that's all we came here for anyway, isn't it?"

Emmett cringed at the look in her eyes when she said that last bit. _That's all we came here for anyway, isn't it?_ Meaning she hadn't meant to talk to him like this, that even though she said they were going to talk about the kiss, and hopefully so much more, that she would keep brushing it off, no matter what he said about it. He hung his head, trying not to let his emotional hurt show. As much as she talked to him, she would never again spend long nights, sleep-eyed and video messaging him on Skype until she fell asleep and he could feast his eyes upon her until he too, had to succumb and rest.

When she walked out of the room, off to find Daphne, Emmett thought he felt a sort of finality in her walking away, and he suddenly wondered if they would ever fully call themselves friends again, let alone the more he craved desperately.

(-.-)

"Where's Emmett?"

Bay shrugged. "In the house. He and I thought that it was time to come find you and for us to go into Mom and Dad's room. I'm still kind of dreading it, but I know that I want to see it."

Daphne nodded. "I understand that completely." Then she frowned, inspecting Bay's face closer. "Have you been crying?"

"No," Bay denied immediately, but saw a beat after that Daphne was going to let her get away with lying. "Maybe," she amended.

"Why?"

"A lot of things really hurt right now," Bay muttered vaguely. "You know?"

Daphne shook her head. "I know but I don't. I know how I'm feeling, I know how pretty much everyone else is feeling, but you've just shut down. You're not even talking to Ty – he told me. What's going on with you, Bay? I know it has to be something big."

Bay pursed her lips. "It really doesn't matter."

"I think it does. If you're crying, if you're letting it affect you this bad."

"I'm talking to my therapist about it," Bay hissed, voice tense. "I don't wish to talk about it outside of there, so can we please just drop the issue?"

"Fine, fine," Daphne sighed, recognizing that Bay wasn't going to give in. "But if you ever want to talk …"

"I know," Bay interrupted, "And thanks."

"I know you'd be there for me," Daphne said.

Bay nodded. "I would be."

Daphne swallowed. "Let's go get Emmett."

"Okay," Bay agreed, though she wasn't sure she was ready to see Emmett again – she had, after all, just run out on him.

She loved spending time with Emmett, but that time always felt heavy, their past dripping from every word, all of the unsaid things hanging in the spaces. She wanted to spend time with him, but she also knew what he wanted from her. And sometimes, she really wanted that too. Sometimes, she wanted to go back to the way they were when they were in love with one another because she knew that she was still in love with him – it followed her wherever she went; whenever she talked to anyone new, whenever she went out with Ty, every beat of her heart spoke _Emmett, Emmett, Emmett._ She loved him, but after the way he had hurt her, she didn't think that she should ever go back to him.

And now, when she couldn't let a man within a few feet of her, it was even worse to love him.

**I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: NuGirl.**

**~TLL~**


	11. Chapter 11

"You know," Bay murmured as they gathered in front of the closed door that lead to John and Kathryn's former bedroom, "I'm still picturing it as it was; with everything perfect."

Daphne glanced at her. "Whenever I think of this room, all I can think about is being in the closet."

Bay shrugged. "But I grew up coming in here in the mornings, waking them up when they were sleeping in on weekends or running here in the middle of the night when I had a nightmare. And when I start thinking about how I used to run here for comfort, I start to feel sick because this place _became_ my nightmare."

Emmett desperately wanted to reach for her, to hold her hand, but he knew that he shouldn't; he knew that she didn't want to be touched by him.

"We all have nightmares about it," Daphne said bitterly.

**Do we want to go in? **Emmett asked, aching from the extended period of standing.

Daphne met Bay's eyes and nodded. Bay reached out and closed her hand around the doorknob. She turned it slowly, and let go, allowing gravity to swing the door open the rest of the way. Bay stared into the room – bright from the daylight, empty of possessions – and was surprised at how _normal_ it looked. She'd half-expected there to be something ugly and evil waiting for them in the room, but it looked innocent and normal – just an empty room waiting to be filled.

They stood there and stared, both at the room and at each other, until Daphne took the plunge and stepped across the threshold.

(-.-)

"Gina," Angelo called, knocking on her bedroom door. "May I come in?"

"Sure," Regina consented, looking up as he stepped into the room.

"I brought you some coffee," Angelo explained, setting it on her nightstand.

"Thank you," she murmured.

"What are you looking at?" Angelo inquired, looking at the abundance of photo albums, loose pictures and frames that she'd spread across her bed.

"The girls," Regina breathed, moving to the side slightly and patting the bed next to her.

Angelo took the invitation eagerly, making himself comfortable on her bare mattress. He picked up closest photo to him – it was taken on the day, or the day after, Bay and Daphne had been born; he had his arms around Regina, who was in a hospital bed, a baby in her arms.

Regina leaned her head on his arm, looking at the photograph he was holding. "You know," she said quietly, "I've been staring at that photo for a long time, trying to figure out if it's Bay or Daphne I'm holding." She fished around next to her, bringing up a picture of two newborns – virtually indistinguishable from one another, except one had _Daphne_ written in Regina's handwriting on the back, and one had _Bay_ in Kathryn's cursive.

Angelo slid the photo he'd been holding between the photos of the infants.

"It's Bay," he said confidently. "You're holding our baby."

Regina looked up at him. "They're _both_ my babies." She paused. "But I think it's Bay, as well."

"I know," Angelo said in response to the first thing that she'd said. "I also know that I screwed up, Gina, I screwed up so badly when it came to our family but, despite everything, I love both of them very much."

"Even though you left Daphne?" Regina spat. She then took a deep breath and tried to compose herself. "Water under the bridge," she muttered.

Angelo put his arm around her shoulders, holding her tightly to him. "I know that my leaving, and how I hurt you with all of the fighting before that, will hurt you for a long time. I know that I cannot atone for what I did, but I feel like we get better every day – all of us."

Regina leaned into him, taking comfort from his embrace. "Your mistakes hurt, but I know they're mistakes and I know you're trying to be a family. But as for getting better, with what happened last week … I don't know if this family will ever truly get better again."

"We will. Everyone in this family – Kennishes included in that – is so damn stubborn and so damn strong that it would be impossible for us not to heal. It's only been a week. "

Regina shook her head. "So much changed in a matter of _seconds_. How long do you think it took for that man to smash Toby's head in? How long do you think it took him to pull the trigger on Emmett? How long do you think it took him to decide _that house_?"

Angelo rubbed her shoulder, trying to comfort her although he could feel Regina getting more and more tense by the second.

"I know; I know. It's so hard, but you are such a good mother. You will be there when they need you – even if it takes them awhile to realize that they do need you. But, Gina – let me ask you something?"

"What?"

"I know you are worried over the girls – over everybody – but who is worrying over you?"

"I don't need to be worried over!"

"You do," Angelo assured her, "Trust me, I know you." He dropped his hand down the length of her arm, taking her hand in his. "So let me do something for you."

"And what would that be?"

Angelo took it as a good sign that she sounded intrigued, rather than resistant to his vague proposal. "Let me take you out for lunch."

It took a beat for Regina to answer, but when she did, it made him smile.

"Yes; okay."

(-.-)

_"You are my sunshine; my only sunshine. You make me happy, when skies are grey. You'll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don't take my sunshine away_," Kathryn sang softly, running her thumb across the back of Toby's hand. "You know, Toby, Bay was always the difficult one. You had your troubles too – I don't forget those – but you were always the easier child, especially when you were little. I would have expected this long, stubborn sleep from your sister, but not from you … Maybe that sounds a little too accusatory, do you think? I don't know.

"All I know is that I miss you, honey. I really … I miss you." Kathryn closed her eyes against her tears, trying not to cry. It never got any easier to come to the hospital and see Toby like this – still, silent, vacant. "Everything was moved to the new house – it's beautiful. And we're setting up your garage again; Dad is soundproofing the walls next week so you can play as loud as you want whenever you want." She squeezed his fingers. "I can't wait to hear what kind of things you'll come up with next."

Kathryn's eyes flickered over Toby's still face, up to the bandage he still wore on his head. She thought of what the doctors had told John – that Toby would not come out of this unscathed; that some parts of brain had been damaged from the assault but that it would be impossible to tell what, exactly, had been affected until Toby woke up. Before she could stop herself, Kathryn wondered if Toby would ever play the guitar again, if he would ever write music again. She was horrified with herself after the thought – Toby without music! It was utterly sinful. But it was heartbreaking possibility, one that she didn't want to consider.

She thought of what she had found when she had gone through one of the boxes of Toby's things – his song writing notebook. She had been privy to many things in her children's lives, a lot more than many other parents were able to know, but she had never been able to see Bay's artwork before it was complete and she'd never been allowed to hear Toby's songs until they were finished. She'd felt a little bit like a traitor, cracking open the notebook to read what her son had been working on.

She'd read the front page, which had not been a song, but had been notes to himself:

Song for Nikki (wedding?)

Song for Mom (birthday/apology for getting married? … Why am I apologizing for getting married?)

Song for Bay (Nightmare reality wall quote? That'd be cool)

Find something else to do for Daphne?

Ask Dad if he seriously wanted me to write a carwash jingle! (Do I want to write a carwash jingle?)

Kathryn had smiled as she read that page, laughing at some of his bracketed comments, particularly the one about John and the carwash jingle, knowing that John had been excited to have Toby write a jingle for the commercial he was planning on putting on for the carwash. She'd flipped the pages eagerly, looking for the song that he'd mentioned writing for her. She'd felt horrible that he thought he had to apologize for getting married, but on the other hand, she didn't know if she'd be able to accept him getting married at such a young age.

She'd found the page with the bits and pieces of her song on it. As she sat in her wheelchair next to his hospital bed, Kathryn opened his notebook again. She flipped to the page with her song on it – crude and unfinished, with tiny notes squeezed in the margin, but a song that still meant the world to her nonetheless. Most of his writing was so scratched out to the point where she couldn't read it, but she could read the first few lines, a small piece of the middle and the very last part of the song.

_Hey Mom, I know that it's late,_

_Hope I didn't wake you._

_Yeah everything is okay,_

_I just needed to talk to you._

…

_Been my biggest fan from the very first song,_

_The gas in the engine that always kept me moving on_

…

_Thank you,_

_I love you_

…

_Thank you for making me the man I've become_

_I love you and I will always be your son_

_Mom, that's all I called to say,_

_Twenty years late._

As she did the first time she'd looked over the song, Kathryn felt tears coming to her eyes.

"You're welcome, Toby; I love you too."

(-.-)

**That's my blood, **Emmett observed, shell-shocked with horror. It was one thing to know that he'd been bleeding on the floor of John and Kathryn's closet; it was one thing to know that he'd coughed blood on their walls but it was entirely another to see that blood dried on the carpet and splattered against the white paint. He felt his body began to shake; feel his cheeks began to heat; felt his heart began to pound in his chest.

He stepped away from the opening of the closet, having to look away from the scene. He leaned against the wall, and let the wall guide his way to the floor. He leaned against the cool plaster, sucking in deep breaths. The deep crimson coloured puddle used to be his blood; those dried spots of liquid used to pump through his veins, used to keep him alive. And there was so much _more_ than he'd ever imagined. Just looking at it, Emmett could feel how close he had come to losing his life – closer than he'd pictured before.

He suddenly awful for how he treated his mother when she was only ever worried over him for good reason.

**Are you okay? **Daphne asked, crouching in front of him, studying his freckled face.

**I almost died … I almost … **Emmett shook his head and dropped his hands, not knowing what else to say.

**But you didn't. You're okay, Emmett. And you're not going anywhere, not for a very long time.**

** We came so close to losing **_**everything**_**. How many times did we have guns in our faces? Look at where Toby is right now? **Tears sprang to his eyes. **Sometimes, I still can't believe we're alive.**

** But we are.**

_**Toby's song to Kathryn is Aaron Lines' 'Twenty Years Late'. I don't own anything recognizable. Thanks to my beta: NuGirl.**_

_**~TLL~**_


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